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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25985170">Arc One: Together and Apart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dullard/pseuds/Dullard'>Dullard</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Warrior Cats: Steorra [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Warrior Cats - Fandom, Warriors</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fanclan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:01:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>23,200</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25985170</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dullard/pseuds/Dullard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Part one of the Steorra series, a story of a California Clan that controls a wide valley and the areas surrounding it. It's been a long time since the Union, and since StarClan has revealed themselves and begun serving and protecting the living. The Clan has grown significantly, to the point that entire factions have formed within the vast Territory and lived life in unique and separate ways. Even with the occasional clash of cultures, life has been serviceably peaceful for generations. </p>
<p>One can't expect that to last, of course.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Warrior Cats: Steorra [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885975</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For more information on the Clan's cultures and groups, the naming system, and the Territory, visit https://calitraditionalism.tumblr.com/.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What did you call me here for, Fernstar?”</p><p> </p><p>The ginger tabby turned to face her high deputy, Viceroyclaw. Like with many cats, Fernstar had to tilt her head upward to do so, not that she let it bother her. She wouldn’t have her rank if she did. </p><p> </p><p>Assessing the calico’s body language, Fernstar could tell she was just asking as a formality. There was nothing that expressed confusion or curiosity as to what Fernstar’s answer would be. In fact, Viceroyclaw already seemed to be thinking of what to say about the situation.</p><p> </p><p>Instead of properly answering, Fernstar instructed,”Better phrasing would be ‘What do you want to talk about, Fernstar?’. At least, if you wanted to express interest rather than subtly imply annoyance or impatience. Or, even better in this circumstance,’Did you call me to discuss Redheart?’, since it’s clear you’re almost certain about that. It would allow me to simply reply with ‘Yes’.”</p><p> </p><p>Viceroyclaw flicked her ear in acknowledgement. This was a normal thing between them in one on one conversations. The high deputy was smart and strong, but could use pointers when it comes to how to word things. Both of them know that; Viceroyclaw had agreed to the Clast leader’s mentoring of sorts. Granted, it was a pretty minor nitpick this time, but in Fernstar’s opinion, it was still worth mentioning. </p><p> </p><p>Fernstar continued,”I received a message from Snowshine about Redheart’s behavior, as of late. I take it she asked Striderfoot to send word to you, as well?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Viceroyclaw responded. It wasn’t surprising that this was the case. Snowshine was the type to be thorough regarding anything she felt was important.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you think of the message?”</p><p> </p><p>Viceroyclaw took a moment to collect her thoughts. “Well… the part about Redheart being weird about Starclan doesn’t concern me much. It’s odd, but as long as she respects the seers, it shouldn’t affect her ability to do her job properly.”</p><p> </p><p>Fernstar dipped her head in agreement. “And I think Snowshine’s message would’ve mentioned Redheart being disrespectful to her if that were the case.”</p><p> </p><p>“But, of course, Redheart talking about maybe taking the group outside Clan territory is worrying,” Viceroyclaw finished. </p><p> </p><p>Not a surprising thought, but there was an implication there in Viceroyclaw’s statement. “So Redheart hasn’t discussed any plans of this type with you, either? Or…” A thought struck Fernstar. “…actually, has she talked much about any sorts of plans with you?”</p><p> </p><p>The high deputy shook her head.</p><p> </p><p>“It has occurred to me that she’s reported a fair amount of changes, but hasn’t said much about where she’s going with these changes. I didn’t think much of it before, but it sounds like Redheart has a larger plan in mind,” Fernstar stated.</p><p> </p><p>“Some of the changes don’t seem to make much sense together,” Viceroyclaw observed. “Trying to get even more members in the group, when planning to go somewhere?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a good point,” the Clast leader responded. “And regardless, it’s likely a more dangerous idea than she realizes. Lightningstar has mentioned at a previous leader council how perilous it was for Hillock cats that traveled outside the border. Plus, of course, I’m not exactly pleased that Redheart hasn’t told me about something this important, even if it’s possible she hasn’t decided on it.”</p><p> </p><p>Viceroyclaw listened along, then asked,“What do you think you’ll do about this?” </p><p> </p><p>“For now, I’m going to bring this up at the next leader council,” Fernstar answered. “Thank you for your input. I’ll mention the new points you’ve brought up, and discuss this with you afterwards.”</p><p> </p><p>With that, the pair parted ways. Fernstar lingered a bit longer, pondering more on Redheart’s intentions. She had been appointed as deputy mainly due to her reliability. Had the Clast leader been incorrect in her assessment? Perhaps so. Either way, Fernstar was determined to find out.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Allegiances</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Relevant Allegiances</b>
</p>
<p>(Cats that show up in this arc.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Main Cast:</b>
</p>
<p>Mistface - Pale blue-grey tom with green eyes and long fur. Scattered warrior.</p>
<p>Greyleaf - Grey tabby tom with green eyes and long fur. Scattered healer.</p>
<p>Nettlecloud - Pale blue-grey molly with green eyes and long fur. Scattered warrior.</p>
<p>Beetlefoot - Dark brown tom with yellow eyes. Fleet messenger, from Brae.</p>
<p>Littlepaw - Tiny fawn calico molly with blue eyes. Hillock seer’s apprentice.</p>
<p>Laurelclaw - Large white tom with yellow eyes and a torn ear. Plage warrior.</p>
<p>Flyfang - Dark grey ticked tabby molly with green eyes. Marish warrior.</p>
<p>Darkpelt - Lean black tabby molly with blind yellow eyes. Versant warrior.</p>
<p>Redheart - Tall red ticked tabby molly with orange eyes. Clast deputy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Leaders:</b>
</p>
<p>Fernstar - Tiny ginger tabby molly with green eyes. Clast leader.</p>
<p>Lightningstar - Golden tabby cat with orange eyes. Hillock leader.</p>
<p>Pebblestar - Tall grey tom with yellow-green eyes. Scattered leader.</p>
<p>Sealstar - Large dark brown tom with yellow eyes. Plage leader.</p>
<p>Aphidstar - Small white tom with golden tabby patches and blue eyes. Marish leader.</p>
<p>Cedarstar - Tortoiseshell molly with orange eyes. Brae leader.</p>
<p>Thornstar - Brown tabby tom with green eyes. Versant leader.</p>
<p>Phoebestar - Black molly with green eyes. Fleet leader.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Minor Characters:</b>
</p>
<p>Viceroyclaw - Muscular calico molly with yellow eyes. Clast high deputy.</p>
<p>Snowshine - White molly with yellow eyes. Clast seer.</p>
<p>Striderfoot - Black molly with orange eyes. Fleet messenger, from Clast.</p>
<p>Morningsky - Fawn dilute tortoiseshell molly with green eyes. Hillock seer.</p>
<p>Brindlecloud - Lean grey spotted tabby molly with yellow eyes. Hillock seer.</p>
<p>Garterthroat - Larger tortoiseshell with brown eyes. Margay actor.</p>
<p>Shadesong - Short black tom with green eyes that have a splash of brown in them. Margay actor.</p>
<p>Gingerpatch - Handsome ginger-and-white tom with bright green eyes. Margay actor.</p>
<p>Laureldawn - Lanky white molly with pale yellow eyes. Margay storyteller.</p>
<p>Cricketnose - Stark brown tabby cat with yellow eyes. Margay storyteller.</p>
<p>Gnatkit - Dark grey flecked tabby molly. Marish kit.</p>
<p>Mosquitokit - Black molly with white markings. Marish kit.</p>
<p>Minnownose - Small grey-brown and white molly. Marish deputy. </p>
<p>Troutpath -  Brown spotted tabby and white tom. Marish warrior.</p>
<p>Ravenleap - Small black and white tom. Marish warrior.</p>
<p>Shinerpelt - Golden tabby tom. Scattered healer.</p>
<p>Grousewind - Grey-brown tom. Fleet messenger, from the Scattered.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Purple and crimson lit the sky from the south, stars vanishing to make way for the sun. The dawn’s silence was broken by a finch singing from a nearby cluster of trees. As if that was a signal, the valley came alive with chirps and cries of birds calling for mates or challenging each other for food. A doe lifted her head, ears rotating back and forth, and started off for the river.</p><p> </p><p>A long-haired, pale blue-grey cat watched her go from his seat on his favorite stone. The surface was flat, but it tilted up just enough to let him lay across it and still have his head high enough to see most of the valley. The dew was catching the slowly emerging sunlight and shining brightly enough that he had to squint a little to see a far-off moving shape that he could guess was a group of cats heading for the hills to the west. They were too distant for him to be able to count how many were in the troupe, but he thought that, from the size and the way they were going, they were patrollers heading for the border to keep an eye on outsiders coming in from the Hillock area.</p><p> </p><p>A rustle distracted him and he twitched one ear. A series of unsteady footsteps, and he knew who it was.</p><p> </p><p>“Mama still asleep?” he said, and shuffled to the side to make room for his brother.</p><p> </p><p>“Mhm.” A grey tabby hopped up beside him and sat down. His lighter neck fur was sticking out in every direction and there was grass caught in it. “She looked peaceful, so I left her alone. She’s close enough that we’ll hear her if she wakes up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good.” The blue-grey tom turned and nodded at his brother’s coat. “You look a right mess, Greyleaf.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh-“ Greyleaf looked down with a paw lifted. He made a noise of frustration and started clawing at the grass. He succeeded in making his fur knotted. “I didn’t-“ He sighed and looked pleadingly at his brother. “Mistface?”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface made a point not to do anything more than smile and get up. “Sit still.”</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf went motionless, hardly even blinking as Mistface went over his neck and then the rest of his pelt, which didn’t look much better.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry,” Mistface said, delicately pulling out a blade of grass. “If I’d known you were havin’ another nightmare, I would’ve woken you up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, no, this one wasn’t as bad.” Greyleaf hastened to look back at his brother. “I was doing a lot of running from…from something or other. I don’t remember.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface smiled to himself with a bit more cheek than before. “Was it the fear of gettin’ your accent back?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not-“ Greyleaf started, and then spluttered. “I didn’t do that on purpose!”</p><p> </p><p>“Teasin’, only teasin’.” Mistface lifted a paw soothingly. “But you did lose it soon as you went to the leaders.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well…” Greyleaf gave him a scowl that was more morose than annoyed. “The northern cats really scare it out of you.”</p><p> </p><p>“They will do that,” Mistface agreed, and removed the last bit of plant matter out of the neck fur. “You best get to groomin’, and well as you can, if you really gotta go today.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want to any more than you or Mama want me to,” Greyleaf said with a distracted lick at his chest. “It just takes two full days of walking to get there, is all. I wish I could bring you two with me, but…”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface nodded with a reserved grimace. Their mother, Nettlecloud, had been steadily losing the energy to make far walks or hunt for herself over the past year. She had wanted to move in near the leader’s dens when Greyleaf was hired for the position of official healer for the heads of the Clan, but her sons had agreed that she should keep to where it was warm and relatively empty of other cats, in case the fatigue was part of something more serious that would cause trouble if she pushed her luck.</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf continued grooming, only pausing to add, “The instant anything happens, you send a messenger, alright?”</p><p> </p><p>“You think I’d just leave you hangin’ if Mama got worse?” Mistface gave him a jokingly incredulous look.</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf shook his head, but just licked at the knots on his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>A trilling purr that stretched into a yawn made both brothers jump up and turn around. An aging blue-grey molly with long, drooping fur was slowly making her way towards them, one paw carefully and gracefully placed before the other.</p><p> </p><p>“You boys needn’t fuss over me,” she said. Her voice was soft and slightly croaky. “Focus on gettin’ that fur back in order, love.”</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf blinked and looked over his shoulder to his back fur. “Oh- I’m nearly done, Mama.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you’ll be leavin’ after that?” Mistface asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Might as well.” Greyleaf turned to greet his mother. “Not that I want to, but, you know. Thornstar’s been sick lately. I’m surprised they even let me leave for a few days.”</p><p> </p><p>“And without a guard to get past the Clast area,” Mistface remarked.</p><p> </p><p>“You make a wide berth ‘round that place.” Nettlecloud walked closer and placed her two front paws on the edge of the stone, stretching up to rasp her tongue over Greyleaf’s tufted ear. “I’ve heard they’re bein’ particularly wild about now.”</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf smiled weakly. “I know, Mama. I’ll be okay. They wouldn’t touch a healer.”</p><p> </p><p>Despite his assurance, Mistface knew that all three of them were sharing the same concerns about the Clast. They were one of the six families that populated the Territory, a vast valley surrounded by mountains and hills, touching a lake and the far-off oceanic coast on its southern and northern borders. The Clast were the most aggressive of the families, and their camp of cobblestone and strange structures called “houses” was occupied by cats that had wandered in from all over, even outside of the Clan’s land, to get into fights with strangers. There had been attempts to settle them down in the past, but even their deputies, the heads of the families, could not force peace for more than a few days.</p><p> </p><p>Their politics did not concern Mistface. He, his mother and his brother were Scattered cats – those that did not belong to any group. They had lived their lives in peaceful seclusion, taking care of themselves and each other. Clast business was not <em>their </em>business. What concerned Mistface was his brother getting caught up in a rolling pair of fighters and being injured because of a pair of idiots not watching where they were going.</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf must have known what he was thinking, because he added, “And they’re not really as bad as you’d think. They rarely give each other lethal wounds. Mostly scratches that leave a scar at the deepest.”</p><p> </p><p>“That ain’t too comfortin’, I’ll admit,” Mistface said dryly.</p><p> </p><p>“I trust you,” Nettlecloud offered, with a calm but stern look at Mistface. “But please humor us and make a wide berth around the settlement, dear.”</p><p> </p><p>“I will.” Greyleaf gave one last lick over his shoulder, hopped down from the stone and leaned his head against Nettlecloud’s shoulder. “You stay safe too, alright? Sleep as much as you need, but get some exercise if you can. Keep your strength up, there are some herbs down the way you can…”</p><p> </p><p>He continued on, listing everything Nettlecloud should do and be careful of. Mistface held in a laugh and let his brother prattle. Even in completely relaxed situations, Greyleaf had always been nervous, especially in regards to his mother, and wanted to prepare for every situation. Mistface noticed Nettlecloud taking the opportunity to get out the leftover knots and smooth down errant hairs on Greyleaf’s sides and he couldn’t resist a chuckle.</p><p> </p><p>“Right, okay.” Greyleaf cleared his throat and stepped back, taking the chuckle as a cue. “I better go.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll eat sometime this morning?” Nettlecloud asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course,” Greyleaf said with a nod. “I have all the best spots memorized.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s been good to see you, brother,” Mistface said. “I’m glad youre doin’ well.”</p><p> </p><p>“Same here.” Greyleaf exchanged a headbump with Mistface and added to Nettlecloud, “Please be careful.”</p><p> </p><p>“We both will be,” Nettlecloud promised.</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf took a shaky breath and let it out as a much steadier exhale. He straightened up and started off at a trot.</p><p> </p><p>“Keep your tail high!” Mistface called. “You’re the healer for the leaders! Act like it!”</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf ducked his head with a slightly amused coughed-out sigh, but lifted his tail and continued on. Mistface and Nettlecloud shouted goodbyes and watched him go for a moment, before Mistface turned to his mother and tapped her with his own absurdly fluffy tail.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s get you some food, Mama,” he said. “I got a good spot memorized myself.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For information on the Clast family, visit https://calitraditionalism.tumblr.com/post/185920315923/families-clast.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A few days passed uneventfully - food, rest, a quick stroll, food, rest, repeat - before, in the middle of a sunny afternoon, Mistface caught sight of a cat in the distance trotting towards him and his mother. He stood up, tail unconsciously flicking back and forth. </p><p> </p><p>“Be kind,” Nettlecloud said around a mouthful of pigeon. </p><p> </p><p>Mistface glanced back at her. “Of course,” he said, and started walking.</p><p> </p><p>A breeze picked up, heading towards Mistface. As the cat got closer, Mistface could smell that it was a tom, but there were so many other scents on him that he couldn’t be sure where this tom was from. That meant he was a member of the Fleet - cats whose lives revolved around traveling in service of the Clan. They never stayed in one place for long, meaning that they could have flowers from the far north on their pelts while their prey from the western border wafted off their paws and face, covering up everything about them but their gender.</p><p> </p><p>Mistface walked until he was a fair distance away from his mother and then stopped, allowing this tom to meet him halfway. He was small and skinny, with bright yellow eyes and dark brown fur that almost went black around his face and feet. He trotted briskly and with stiff purpose, tail and ears straight, and he didn’t say a word until he was a few tail-lengths away from Mistface, where he stopped abruptly and held his head high.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you Greyleaf’s brother?” he asked. He spoke just like he walked, and with a faint, odd and clipped accent. </p><p> </p><p>“That I am,” Mistface replied. “I assume you have a message from him.”</p><p> </p><p>The tom nodded with a quick jerk of his head. “I’m to deliver it to Nettlecloud.”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s a mite busy,” Mistface said coolly. “Still havin’ lunch. What’s the message?”</p><p> </p><p>The tom frowned. “The message was specified to be given to Nettlecloud. Is she nearby?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Mistface said, still cool, “and she’s busy. I can give it to her.”</p><p> </p><p>The frown deepened into a scowl. “I’ll wait until she’s <em>not </em>busy, then.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well.” Mistface blinked slowly. “Ain’t you a stickler.”</p><p> </p><p>“I obey my orders,” the tom said primly. “I was told to speak directly with Nettlecloud, and that is what I’ll do.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface disliked him already, but he said nothing. He simply waved his tail lazily and slightly tilted his head, appraising this little cat. He was accustomed to receiving messages from Greyleaf, but never had a messenger refused to speak with him. This one must have been new and overly focused on the rules, Mistface figured. </p><p> </p><p>He opened his mouth to speak, but Nettlecloud called for him. He blinked slowly and deliberately again, in the same manner one would yawn to insult an opponent, and tilted his head further and backwards towards his mother.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, then,” he said, and turned around without waiting for a response. He knew the tom would follow - and, sure enough, there were instantly short and even footsteps behind him.</p><p> </p><p>Nettlecloud waited until Mistface was almost right in front of her to speak, and when she did, it was to the messenger. “A wonderful afternoon, isn’t it, little one?”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface turned his head just enough to catch the surprise on the tom’s face out of the corner of his eye. He held back his smile and waited.</p><p> </p><p>The tom’s response was halting and delayed. “It…is. And-” He straightened up again. “I’m a fully-fledged warrior, ma’am. I know I’m small-”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I didn’t mean it like <em>that,</em> love,” Nettlecloud said gently, and gave a soft laugh like a dove’s coo. “Though you <em>are</em> rather petite. I’m Nettlecloud, and this is Mistface.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface hummed an unenthusiastic greeting.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s your name?” Nettlecloud said. </p><p> </p><p>The tom could at least answer that promptly. “Beetlefoot. Messenger of the Fleet.” </p><p> </p><p>Nettlecloud’s eyes widened a little and she nodded with sincere approval. “You must be good if a deputy of the Fleet named you -foot.” </p><p> </p><p>Mistface could not resist a smirk. Beetlefoot was completely caught off-guard by this random compliment, and it took him a few seconds to speak. </p><p> </p><p>“I do my best,” he said at last, looking a little lost. “Er…thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface took pity on him and prompted, “Your message?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah.” Beetlefoot coughed and shook his head like a fly was bothering him. “Yes. Your son sent me to you when he got back to the leaders. He said, ‘I’ve made it back without any trouble, but there was a patrol on the way that told me to be careful about a fox family nesting in the western part of the Territory. Or, at least, along the border. They weren’t too clear on it themselves, they were just heading that way. I just wanted to tell my mother and brother to be extra careful and stay where they are for now.’” </p><p> </p><p>“He said all that?” Mistface asked. </p><p> </p><p>“I removed a few pauses and stutters,” Beetlefoot said, not without a little pride, “but that’s the exact phrasing otherwise.”</p><p> </p><p>“That was very well said.” Nettlecloud beamed. “Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>Again, that mild bewilderment from Beetlefoot. “Just performing my job, ma’am. I, er, should head back, with a message from you, if you’d like-”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, no.” Nettlecloud lifted up a paw. “You shouldn’t be goin’ all that way right after comin’ here. Why don’t you stay the night? Rest up with us, let your feet cool down.”</p><p> </p><p>“I-” started Beetlefoot. </p><p> </p><p>“Mama-” started Mistface.</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t touch that prey you caught, Mistface,” Nettlecloud continued on, as if neither of them had said anything. “Bring it over for him. Beetlefoot, come, relax. Do you like vole?”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface wanted very badly to protest, but he knew better than to contradict his mother in front of a guest. Unwilling as he was, he padded over to the prey in question and picked it up by its tail. He turned back and snorted at the completely baffled look on Beetlefoot’s face.</p><p> </p><p>“I-” he stammered. “It would be responsible to go back with your message-”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you’ll get it in the mornin’,” Nettlecloud said sweetly. “Come sit down, dear. Is vole alright with you?”</p><p> </p><p>“It-” Beetlefoot’s eyes darted to Mistface. Mistface simply strolled up and set down the vole at his feet. At a complete loss, Beetlefoot sat and said quietly, “Vole is fine. Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>He stayed silent for a while, looking small and awkward. Mistface almost felt bad for him. Luckily, Nettlecloud was very good at salvaging uncomfortable situations. She chatted away about various topics, gradually relaxing Beetlefoot as the day grew old and dark. He stiffened again when she asked him, “So, how is it working for the Fleet?” </p><p> </p><p>“It-” Beetlefoot cleared his throat. “It’s constant. Our members are always on the move. Messengers, scouts, patrollers, all of us, we’re working every day.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sounds difficult,” Mistface remarked after a pointed look from his mother. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s not for the lazy,” Beetlefoot agreed. “But the Clan needs us, and it’s invigorating.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did you choose to become a messenger?” Nettlecloud asked. “You look like you could be a good scout, too.” </p><p> </p><p>“They look for cats my size for scouting, but I proved better for messenger work.” Beetlefoot’s small bit of pride wormed into his voice again. “I was told I have one of the sharpest memories in our group, and some of the fastest feet. And I enjoy my job very much, so it fit well.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t that require some likin’ for conversation?” Mistface said from his lounging position in the loose circle they had formed. </p><p> </p><p>“Dear,” Nettlecloud chided.</p><p> </p><p>“Not as much as you’d expect,” Beetlefoot said, eyes narrowed. “But it does require actually moving around a little.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface was unruffled. “Good thing I never joined, then. Catchin’ prey is work enough.” </p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot didn’t respond, but his posture didn’t give any indication of further hostility. He instead looked back to Nettlecloud and said, “Scouts tend to retire early, anyway, even though their job is easier than patrolling or sending messages. I want to work for as long as I can.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s quite admirable,” Nettlecloud said. “I’ve heard it’s nerve-frayin’, bein’ a scout.”</p><p> </p><p>“The outside world is not a pleasant place.” Beetlefoot’s tail tapped the ground, unsettled. “Even the Plage don’t like to step off of their known paths. StarClan doesn’t have control away from the Territory. Who knows what’s out there in the wild.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface hummed and silently thanked his ancestors’ spirits for keeping the Territory safe and free of larger predators. From the look on Nettlecloud and Beetlefoot’s faces, they were doing the same. </p><p> </p><p>That thought came at the perfect time - the stars were revealing themselves and shining down on the valley. Nettlecloud took the opportunity to suggest that they all sleep, which they did (though Mistface noted that Beetlefoot was still awake and watching the land around them when he drifted off). The night was pleasantly cool and the air moved gently, keeping the three of them from being uncomfortable and overly warm as they slept. </p><p> </p><p>In the morning, Beetlefoot politely accepted a mouse that Mistface caught. After breakfast, he awkwardly stood and excused himself. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you for your hospitality,” he said. “Is- is your message ready?”</p><p> </p><p>“It is.” Nettlecloud purred. “Please tell Greyleaf that we’ll alert him if we have to move because of those foxes. And that we’d like to know when we can expect to see him next.” </p><p> </p><p>“Awful short message to hold the boy hostage for, Mama,” Mistface remarked. </p><p> </p><p>“We weren’t in a rush,” Nettlecloud said. “And we’ve made a friend, haven’t we?” </p><p> </p><p>Mistface side-eyed Beetlefoot, who had that look of surprise again. “S’pose we did.”</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot paused, but bobbed his head, said “goodbye”, and turned…and suddenly he was gone. Mistface actually had to focus to catch his silhouette as it darted off into the distance.</p><p> </p><p>“Guess he was named appropriately after all,” Mistface said, and rolled onto his back, soaking up the sun. “Hope for your sake we’ll see him again.”</p><p> </p><p>“We will, I’m sure,” Nettlecloud said. She rested her chin on her paws and the two fell into a comfortable silence, letting the sun warm them into drowsiness. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For information on the various ranks within the Fleet, visit https://calitraditionalism.tumblr.com/post/184934040628/ranks-patrollers-messengers-and-scouts.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Drowsily, Littlepaw stretched, arching out her body. It was dawn, and the sunlight warmed her fawn calico fur. The seer apprentice was naturally an early riser, something which she was grateful for. It meant that sometimes, she could have a moment to just think to herself.</p><p> </p><p>Her gaze drifted to the scenery around her. She could see the gently rolling hills of Hillock territory in the distance. When Littlepaw looked at her more immediate surroundings, she could see dew sparkling in the grass around her.</p><p> </p><p>"Good morning, Littlepaw.” </p><p> </p><p>With that, Littlepaw’s time to relax was abruptly taken away from her. She recognized this voice. Her mother. </p><p> </p><p>It seemed like something from a Margay tale, a cat called Morningsky that woke up at dawn. If only her mother had been named Eveningsky. It felt almost like a competition to get up before her in order to have some peace during the day. </p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw tilted her head in Morningsky’s direction. “Good morning, Mother.” </p><p> </p><p>The similarly-colored tortoiseshell sat down next to her. “There’s something I wish to discuss with you.”</p><p> </p><p>The apprentice simply waited for her mother to continue, knowing better than to expect a real discussion. Almost certainly, it would just be her mother saying what she hoped for out of her daughter. It was tiring. Littlepaw was already a seer’s apprentice because it was what her mother wanted. That was more than what most apprentices did for their parents. Why wasn’t it enough?</p><p> </p><p>As usual, Morningsky took Littlepaw’s silence as a signal to proceed. “I think you should try to become friends with other seer apprentices,” she went on. “I understand that you aren’t the most outgoing of cats, but think of it as a way to improve as a seer. You might learn something from talking to them. Do you understand?”</p><p> </p><p>“I understand, Mother.” Hiding her annoyance was practically second nature to Littlepaw by now. How lovely of her mother to put her in a position where it was hard to make friends, then complain about her lack of friends. The rank of seer made it difficult for other apprentices to just see her as an equal, and most fellow seer apprentices were genuinely dedicated to their jobs. As a result, Littlepaw had given up by now on friendships that weren’t superficial. </p><p> </p><p>Morningsky looked at her with a proud gaze. “I knew you would, Littlepaw.”</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw noticed that a few other cats were awake by now. Among them she spotted her mentor, a dappled grey tabby named Brindlecloud. She wasn’t particularly eager for training, but she’d take it over this. “I should get going, Mother,” Littlepaw stated matter-of-factly. “I don’t wish to keep my mentor waiting.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, dear,” Morningsky replied with a smile. “Remember to keep working hard on your training.”</p><p> </p><p>With a dip of her head, Littlepaw headed over to her mentor. Brindlecloud noticed Littlepaw approaching, and waited a moment before speaking. “Greetings, Littlepaw. I have some good news.”</p><p> </p><p>The apprentice asked,“What is the news?” She sat down next to Brindlecloud, delicately wrapping her tail in front of her paws. </p><p> </p><p>“Yesterday, after our training, a messenger confirmed with me that the seer council will be two weeks from now on Urst.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s good to know.” Littlepaw recalled that in seer councils, they tended to share dreams from Starclan and the like. It wasn’t particularly interesting to her, but many other seers found it important. If only she could attend a different council, like hear the news leaders shared amongst themselves, or even better, go to a coterie council. She wasn’t even sure what happened at those, besides that the minor groups met up for them. </p><p> </p><p>As Brindlecloud continued on to her lesson, Littlepaw overheard someone say,“…there’s a coterie gathering on Sel. I’m thinking of going and…”</p><p> </p><p>A coterie gathering? The apprentice’s mind raced with excitement. An event where cats could get together and see the minor groups, including the Margays! She’d get the chance to see another story reenacted by them. Littlepaw wondered what kind of tale would be told. The clever heroism of Ratze? The-</p><p> </p><p>The now stern voice of Brindlecloud snapped Littlepaw out of her thoughts. “You’re not paying attention.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, Brindlecloud,” Littlepaw said, but it came out flatly, and her mentor quickly caught on to that.</p><p> </p><p>Brindlecloud’s gaze focused intently on her apprentice as she lectured,“You know your duty as a seer is important. You have talent, but you must also listen during your training. Do you understand, Littlepaw?”</p><p> </p><p>She decided she was getting awfully tired of that phrase, ‘Do you understand’. Still, Littlepaw answered, forcing herself to sound sincere,”I understand.” </p><p> </p><p>As the lesson continued, Littlepaw did her best to make herself focus, not wanting to be lectured again. Despite the short lecture, however, her enthusiasm hadn’t been significantly dampened. Soon, she could see the Margays. Soon, she could listen to something that she really wanted to hear.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For information about the different types of gatherings, visit https://calitraditionalism.tumblr.com/post/618948219494416384/hey-i-couldnt-remember-if-youd-answered-a.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A call in the still morning air, and Mistface jolted awake. He looked back and forth several times before he caught sight of a dark brown shape approaching. His eyes still blurry with sleep, he stood up, stretched with the proper amount of ease and luxury, and sat down to paw at his face and smooth out his fur. He got the fluff around his neck tamed just in time to look up and recognize Beetlefoot.</p><p> </p><p>The little tom stopped when he was close enough to be heard at a normal volume and set his front feet close together, tail up and ears perked. He looked just as overly-serious as before, but this time he was silent.</p><p> </p><p>Mistface blinked in surprise. Then a smile spread across his face. He couldn’t help but tease, saying, “Don’t tell me you’re fond of us already. Or did you come back to chat up my mother?”</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot wrinkled his nose. “Actually, I’ve been assigned to your brother as his personal messenger. He sent me to invite you to the Coterie gathering happening nearby.”</p><p> </p><p>“That so?” Mistface tilted his head. “Ain’t heard about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Because you don’t talk to anyone, love.” Nettlecloud emerged out of a nearby bush. Several leaves were stuck in her fur and she looked like she was still half-asleep (though awake enough to snark at her son, Mistface noted). “Hello again, Beetlefoot! It’s good to see you.”</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot dipped his head respectfully. “Hello again, ma’am.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s this I hear about a Coterie?” Nettlecloud came to stand beside Mistface.</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot somehow straightened up further than he was already standing. “One’s going on a few minutes away. Greyleaf was taken to it, and he asked me to come and tell you he’s there and that he’d like to see you.”</p><p> </p><p>“That exactly what he said again?” Mistface said dryly.</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot gave him a sharp look. “Almost entirely, yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Behave, dear,” Nettlecloud said to her son. “You’ll have to go without me. I’m not feelin’ too well. Perhaps you can bring Greyleaf here afterwards.”</p><p> </p><p>“I shouldn’t leave if you’re sick, Mama,” Mistface protested. And besides, he added to himself, there’ll be too many people.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll just be sleepin’.” Nettlecloud flicked her tail dismissively. “Ain’t a need to worry about me. You should make sure your brother’s alright, anyway. You know how he is in a crowd.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface couldn’t argue that. He withheld a sigh and nodded. “I’ll be back with him if I can, then.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The walk north was silent and awkward, both toms not wanting to be the first to speak. Mistface was grateful for the gradually building sound of a community meeting as they went along. The closer they got to a patch of oaks, the more cats popped up in the grass or came to trot along their way. Mistface made a point not to look at any of them.</p><p> </p><p>Soon enough, the toms stepped into the grove’s shade. Cats of all sizes, shapes and colors lined the branches of the trees and sat around the exposed parts of the roots, chatting to each other. Apprentices chased each other through the crowd and kits huddled in the grass that was just tall enough to conceal them, pouncing on tails or stray leaves. Elders sat together in the sun, sharing stories or snapping at a pair of wrestling apprentices.</p><p> </p><p>The main points of interest were the clusters of nearly ten cats that were calling the attention of passerby. One group had a brightly-colored item like a beehive that was leaned on its side to expose the many shiny trinkets like stones or shells that this group, the Magpies, had collected to sell. Another was full of older cats telling the history of the Clan to kits, who listened with wide eyes and open mouths. These, Mistface knew, were called the Vultures.</p><p> </p><p>This was part of the point of the Coterie gatherings. Where the families of the Clan existed because of lingering connections to the colonies from before the Union, these minor groups came to be out of the culture that sprung up when the Clans became one. Telling the stories and legends of the Territory, or recording history, or even just sharing items from all over the valley to those who didn’t travel much – all of this was what the Margays, Vultures and Magpies lived for. </p><p> </p><p>Mistface was not impressed. He knew as well as everyone else that there were other groups that existed that just caused trouble, and they had just not been invited (though apparently the local tricksters, the Coyotes, were allowed to come, from what Mistface had heard once). These gatherings just tried to smooth out the knots and tangles that should have been apparent to everyone.</p><p> </p><p>His eyes roamed, scanning for Greyleaf. It took him a moment to hear what Beetlefoot was saying to him.</p><p> </p><p>“I need to catch up on news with the rest of the Fleet,” he repeated testily when Mistface looked at him. “Greyleaf should be with the leaders.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface blinked. “The leaders are here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sealstar and Pebblestar are.” Beetlefoot turned away to trot off at that brisk pace for a gang of cats that were either bulky and tall or slim and short. A few of them looked his way, but none of them seemed interested that he was approaching.</p><p> </p><p>Mistface hummed and started walking again, sniffing the air, trying to catch his brother’s scent, only to be bumped into with such force that he nearly fell over. He barely caught himself and turned to glare at whoever this was that shoved him, and immediately paused to look up at the monolith of a white cat at his side.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh! I’m sorry!” The tom’s voice was oddly high for someone as big as he was, and he huddled a little like a kit in trouble. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there, there were these apprentices -“</p><p> </p><p>Mistface almost forgot his anger in favor of amusement. He shook out his fur and raised a paw. “Ain’t a problem. They must’ve been awfully big apprentices to push you around.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, no, no.” The tom made a noise that sounded like an apologetic laugh. “I was just trying to get out of the way. There’s so many here, you know, and they’re all playing. I didn’t want them to bump into me and get hurt.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface eyed him. The tom’s fur was just thick enough that he couldn’t tell how much of the body was fluff versus muscle. “I’ll take your word for it.”</p><p> </p><p>He intended that to be the end of the conversation, but the tom continued on, sounding relieved to have found someone to talk to.</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, I guess it’s better me than Sealstar,” he said. “I haven’t seen him in a long time, and he somehow got so much bigger than before! If he bumped into you, he’d probably send you flying.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hm,” Mistface said politely. “He invite you here, then?”</p><p> </p><p>“He did!” The tom beamed. “I should have guessed he’d come all this way south for a Coterie, but I didn’t think he’d have some of us come with him!”</p><p> </p><p>This wasn’t a surprise to Mistface. Even he knew how much the Plage leader loved these gatherings. Of course he would want to share that joy with the warriors of his family. The Plage spent so much time away from the bulk of the Territory, since they traveled to and from the coast, leaving them little time to mingle with the rest of the Clan.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re Plage, then?” said Mistface.</p><p> </p><p>The tom nodded. “My name is Laurelclaw.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mistface,” said Mistface. He opened his mouth to say “pleasure talkin’ to you”, but he caught a familiar voice calling to him and looked over.</p><p> </p><p>“There you are.” Greyleaf stepped around a pair of talking cats and greeted his brother with a headbump to the shoulder. “Sorry, I thought I heard you, but Pebblestar stopped me to ask a question.” He paused and looked nervously at Laurelclaw. “Is, uh… is this one of Beetlefoot’s comrades?”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s Plage,” Mistface said, adding to Laurelclaw, “Could be a Fleet member, though, couldn’t you? Patroller or somethin’.”</p><p> </p><p>Laurelclaw laughed apologetically again. “Well…”</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me!”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface closed his eyes and braced himself to be forced to talk to yet another cat. This time, it was a warmly-colored tortoiseshell with the elongated features of a Hillock cat. She was practically tugging a tiny calico along after her. The three toms looked at each other curiously as the tortoiseshell came to a stop uncomfortably close to Greyleaf’s face.</p><p> </p><p>“Greetings,” she said. “You’re the healer for the leaders, right? Greyleaf, I think?”</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf looked confused and frightened at the sudden attention. “Uh- yes. Is something wrong?”</p><p> </p><p>“The opposite, in fact.” The molly puffed out her chest. “My name is Morningsky. This is my daughter, Littlepaw.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hello,” Littlepaw said unhappily.</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf’s eyes flickered from the mother to the daughter. “Okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“My daughter is a very prolific seer apprentice,” Morningsky said grandly. “She’s three moons away from earning her name, and already she’s been blessed by StarClan. Dreaming of them every night, receiving messages from them-“</p><p> </p><p>“Glad she’s capable of doin’ her basic job,” Mistface said flatly.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s one of the best, if not the best.” Morningsky looked at Littlepaw with an oddly self-absorbed sort of pride, appearing not to notice Littlepaw’s embarrassment. “I wanted to inform you about her so that she can have the opportunity to work for the leaders, like you do.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface eyed the apprentice. “And she looks real thrilled about that prospect.”</p><p> </p><p>Morningsky didn’t even spare a glance at Mistface before speaking to Greyleaf again. “I mean, if a cat with no family can make it there, a proper Hillock seer should be perfect material for leader service.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface shared another look with Laurelclaw. The tom seemed worried as he watched Littlepaw shuffle uncomfortably.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh…” Greyleaf looked like he wanted out of the conversation too. “I mean-“</p><p> </p><p>By a blessing, a yowl rang through the forest. “The story is beginning! Gather ‘round!”</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw’s eyes lit up and she looked to her mother. “Can we watch?”</p><p> </p><p>Morningsky’s enthusiasm dissipated. “I suppose for a bit.”</p><p> </p><p>“Here, come with me.” Laurelclaw beckoned with his shorter-than-usual tail. “There’s a great spot, I can get you up into the branches.”</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw’s low mood was immediately gone. In delight, she followed Laurelclaw, her mother disdainfully tagging along. The three of them started for a tree a little bit away from the crowd. Mistface watched as Laurelclaw put his front paws against the trunk and helped Littlepaw climb up with about as much effort as it would take to lift a twig.</p><p> </p><p>“You feel like watchin’?” Mistface asked Greyleaf.</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf sighed in relief. “After that? Yes, that’d be nice. We can talk after.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface walked with his brother around the quickly growing crowd. Neither of them cared to be among the masses, so they joined Laurelclaw and Littlepaw in the tree (which was indeed a very good spot) and watched as a group of cats make a half-circle, with one standing to the side and two facing each other. Mistface noticed Littlepaw’s tail jumping up and down excitedly as the cat on the side opened her mouth and began the story.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For information about the minor groups within the Territory, visit https://calitraditionalism.tumblr.com/post/185868096278/minor-groups.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>A TALE OF THE RUNAGATE AND AILERON’S ENCOUNTER</b>
</p><p> </p><p>The story’s narrator, a cinnamon tortoiseshell, began to tell the tale as a ginger-and-white tom stepped into the audience’s view. Littlepaw noticed from her spot in the tree that the tom was headed towards a white rock glittering in the grass.</p><p> </p><p>“Long ago, there was a warrior, Neriumpelt, who stumbled across a shard of Mona’s rocky halo. This shard was one of the many lost in a past incident that now remain scattered across Clan territory. However,” the storyteller gave a small pause for dramatic effect,”someone else had their eyes set on this shard as well.”</p><p> </p><p>A lanky white molly with eerie, pale yellow eyes walked towards the tom and began to speak in a mysterious, subtly unsettling tone. “Greetings, young warrior. I am the Runagate, and I wish to make a deal with you.”</p><p> </p><p>A delightful shiver ran down Littlepaw’s spine as she heard the cat’s name. The Runagate was a character that appeared every now and then as an antagonist in stories, so she already knew that this deal would be trouble.</p><p> </p><p>Neriumpelt seemed to have some doubts as well. “The Runagate? I don’t think I should make a deal with you. I’ve heard in tales that you’re an evil spirit.” He stepped backwards slightly, away from the Runagate.</p><p> </p><p>The Runagate flicked their tail dismissively. “Nonsense,” the spirit replied, practically hissing the s’s in the word like a snake. “All I want is to make you an offer that would help both of us.”</p><p> </p><p>The tom still looked uncertain, but asked,”What is your offer?”</p><p> </p><p>“I can help guide you in a path to leadership. You do wish to make changes for the good of the Clan, yes?” Neriumpelt gave a small, hesitant nod at the Runagate’s words. “All I need from you is this shard that you’ve found.”</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw silently hoped for the cat to know better than to take this deal, but was familiar enough with stories to know what’s coming next.</p><p> </p><p>After some consideration, Neriumpelt answered,”…Alright. I accept your deal. As rare as this is, I don’t have much of a use for it. Besides, I’d be a fool to turn down something like that.” He pushed the shard towards the Runagate, who was grinning wide like a fox.</p><p> </p><p>“Glad we could come to an agreement,” the Runagate purred, taking the shard. “I’ll see you soon to fulfill my end of the bargain.”</p><p> </p><p>With that, the Runagate strolled off with the shard. The evil spirit didn’t really walk far, staying in view of the audience, but was enough of a distance away to indicate no longer being a part of the scene. </p><p> </p><p>The storyteller spoke up again, with a loud, clear voice,”The Runagate leaves, having a terrible plot for the shard in their possession. Fortunately, however, there is someone on the side of good on the lookout for shards of Mona’s halo. It is none other than the moon aspect’s protege herself, Aileron, aspect of the wind! She flies with her dragonfly wings, a tailwind she summoned ruffling her shiny black and blue fur. Gracefully, Aileron lands in front of Neriumpelt.”</p><p> </p><p>A short black tom leaped onto the scene, taking on the role of Aileron. </p><p> </p><p>Aileron looked at Neriumpelt with a serious expression on her face. Her tail swished with anger, but only slightly, since she was the type to mostly maintain control over her emotions. “I saw you give the shard of Mona’s halo to the Runagate,” Aileron stated with an authoritative tone. “Which way did that evil spirit go?”</p><p> </p><p>“I- if I tell you, I won’t become a leader, and w-what’s the Runagate gonna do with a shard, anyhow-” Neriumpelt stumbled over his words, and shuffled his paws nervously. </p><p> </p><p>Aileron glared at the tom, who didn’t meet her gaze. “The Runagate shall use up the shard’s power to summon a primal beast, which is able to destroy anything you could become leader of. I cannot delay in my search.”</p><p> </p><p>A breeze picked up in the grove. Even though it was just a coincidence, Littlepaw imagined it to be part of Aileron’s wrath. </p><p> </p><p>“I…” Neriumpelt looked at the aspect of wind with a shocked expression. “…that way.” He turned to indicate the direction. </p><p> </p><p>“There’s a reason tales are spoken of the Runagate’s untrustworthiness.” With those parting words, Aileron headed towards the Runagate.</p><p> </p><p>With that, the narration continued. “As Aileron rushes forth, she confronts the Runagate. Seeing the shard near the evil spirit, she blows it away.” The actress playing the part of the Runagate kicked the rock in such a way where it appeared to most onlookers like this imaginary wind really was doing the work.</p><p> </p><p>With a sneer, the Runagate gloated,”It’s too late, Aileron. Can’t you sense it? I’ve already used that piece of your precious mentor’s halo to summon a primal beast. It’s only a matter of time until it appears.”</p><p> </p><p>The wind aspect stepped forward, undeterred. “In that case, it’s a good thing I’ve hunted many primal beasts in the past.”</p><p> </p><p>A large tortoiseshell stepped into the fray as the storyteller described the creature. “The primal beast materializes. It’s a giant, orange and black doglike creature, standing as tall as an oak. In the moonlight, its scales glitter, and the creature’s many eyes are set on Aileron. It senses her intent to slay it, and makes the first move. But the aspect of wind is ready.”</p><p> </p><p>The primal beast made a big, clumsy swipe at Aileron, which she easily sidestepped. The wind aspect then jabbed at it, leaping away before the creature can react. It lumbered forth, and Aileron jumped onto its back, getting in more blows. However, she stayed a moment too long, and it rolled over, causing her to roughly hit the ground. Aileron herself now rolled, managing to dodge a strike. She struggled just a bit to get up after landing like that; the wind aspect’s endurance wasn’t her strongest point. </p><p> </p><p>At this point the wind strengthened again, and it seemed the actors have prepared for if this type of opportunity arose. The primal beast fell to the ground, as if the wind aspect had created a powerful gust herself, and Aileron pounced. With another flurry of attacks, she finished off the creature.</p><p> </p><p>The narration concluded,”Finally, the primal beast is defeated. Unfortunately, the Runagate fled in the chaos, and the halo piece has effectively become an ordinary stone. Still, thanks to Aileron’s swift response, much worse has been prevented. The Clan territory remains safe from threats that no ordinary cat can slay.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For information about the Runagate, visit https://calitraditionalism.tumblr.com/post/185783140118/religion-the-runagate.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The crowd applauded the conclusion of the story with cheers and yelled compliments to the actors, who bowed their heads to each kind word. Mistface did not speak, but he nodded in approval and slowly slid down from his branch to the trunk of the tree, clambering to the ground with less grace than he would have liked. Greyleaf, Littlepaw and Laurelclaw followed after him, each of them struggling a little to land without stumbling. That was a small comfort.</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw’s tail jumped about in a muffled sort of delight and her fur was fluffed out in excitement. Her eyes were on the Margays, who were talking with members of the dissipating crowd that had chosen to linger and offer personal words.</p><p> </p><p>“That was fun, wasn’t it?” Laurelclaw said to her, grinning. “Good spot, too, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw nodded and looked at him. “Thank you for helping me up. I’m not used to climbing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, me neither.” Laurelclaw did one of those sorry-sounding laughs again, like he had to apologize for laughing at all. “I mean, cliffs, sometimes, but not trees. Anyway-“ He looked at Mistface and Greyleaf. “Did you like it? I thought they did a great job. I love hearing about Mona’s halo shards. They’re so mystical!”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, real mysterious,” Mistface said, tilting his head back slowly towards the Magpie’s circle. “’Specially considerin’ they’re sellin’ supposed shards right over there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, lucky!” Laurelclaw perked up even more than he already had and looked over Mistface’s head (not a difficult task for him) to the collection of white stones. “I should see if I can bring one home. My father would love one.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not a bad idea,” Mistface said, and made a silent note to himself to get one for Nettlecloud. He added, “Well, real nice talkin’ with you.” To his surprise, he almost entirely meant it.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, for sure!” Laurelclaw turned back to him and nodded. “It was nice to meet you, Mistface. You and your brother, though I didn’t get to talk to him much. See you around, maybe!”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe so.” Mistface waved his tail and watched the massive tom trot off towards the Magpies, occasionally jumping out of someone’s way as if he was a tiny kit needing to avoid being squashed.</p><p> </p><p>“Funny,” Mistface said aloud, and looked sideways towards the Margays’ members. They were finishing up with the last of the audience as Littlepaw trotted up, weaving around leaving cats with the grace and certainty Laurelclaw should have had.</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me,” she said to the white molly who had played the Runagate, and with much more enthusiasm than she had shown with her mother, “but I was amazed at the voice you used during the story! It was perfect for the role and really eerie.”</p><p> </p><p>The molly purred and spoke in a voice not too different from the one she had used in the show, only lighter and smoother. “I’m glad you liked it. I practiced it on my crew when they were trying to sleep. They hated it.”</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw looked like she was laughing, but it was too quiet to tell for sure, combined with the noise of the crowd overwhelming it. She said much more clearly, “Do you practice the part a lot?”</p><p> </p><p>“Tens of times before each act,” the molly said. “Even when we’re walking to our next temp-den, we preform as we move.”</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw’s eyes shined. “That’s a lot of dedication.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s worth it.” The molly nodded with satisfaction. “And I wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface was mildly impressed. Littlepaw was much more so, which was obvious from the awe on her face. She opened her mouth to presumably ask another question, but that pretentious voice called out, “Littlepaw, where are you?”</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw immediately deflated, down to the fur on her tail drooping and touching the ground. She looked back to her approaching mother.</p><p> </p><p>“There,” Morningsky said, and looked at the white molly as one would regard an oversized bug that had been almost entirely squashed but was still feebly kicking its legs. “That was…very well-acted. Very theatrical story.”</p><p> </p><p>It could not have been plainer that she didn’t hold the acting or the story in any regard below rock-bottom. Littlepaw’s face was immediately washed over with embarrassment again. She looked at the ground in shame.</p><p> </p><p>To her credit, the white molly’s offense was well-hidden – Mistface could only see it because he was watching her profile, and her tail tapped the ground testily straight behind her. “I’m glad you liked it.”</p><p> </p><p>She looked down at Littlepaw, but before she could say anything, Morningsky turned and curled her tail around her daughter, guiding her away from the Margays’ circle with a half-hearted farewell. She had a pinched look of scorn about her face. </p><p> </p><p>“Come along,” she said. “There’s a few seer apprentices here that you should meet.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface didn’t like most cats, but he had a new, special animosity towards this queen bee. Littlepaw passed by him and nodded morosely before following along after her mother. Mistface was tempted to offer some words of kindness, such as “your mother is a shrew”. He doubted she would disagree.</p><p> </p><p>He turned to mention his thoughts to his brother, but Greyleaf was gone. Mistface blinked and looked around. He was nowhere in the sea of cats, and since they were all constantly moving around,  Mistface had to sit up on his hind legs to get a better view.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing. Mistface frowned.</p><p> </p><p>He stood up properly and started for the tree they had all sat in. He knew tracking his brother with scent would be impossible in an area with so many other cats, and he did not want to start yelling Greyleaf’s name. It would cause too much attention to shine on him, which Mistface knew would stress him out. A higher position and a silent approach would work best.</p><p> </p><p>Mistface was glad no one was looking at him, because his scramble up the trunk was, he knew, quite clumsy and comical to watch. He got just high enough to hit where the oak’s trunk split into many branches and scanned the grove for his brother.</p><p> </p><p>Sure enough, he caught sight of Greyleaf within a few moments… but Mistface frowned again, confused. His brother wasn’t walking around looking for him, or huddled on the side of the crowd awkwardly, or even speaking with the loudly laughing Sealstar over there in the sun.</p><p> </p><p>He was in the shade of the thickest part of the grove, where everyone had meandered away from to lounge in the light. He stood unusually straight and stiff, ears alert, mouth thin and still instead of twitching nervously as it sometimes did. In fact, every part of his body was motionless. Mistface couldn’t quite catch the expression in his eyes from this distance, but the rest of his posture was focused and serious.</p><p> </p><p>Across from him was a rather striking molly – she was tall and fairly muscled, red-brown and roan-shaded, with a darker back and paler underside and neck. She almost loomed over Greyleaf, but at the same time her posture allowed for deference (though not much). Her mouth was moving very fast and her ears were slicked back, her tail straight out and not budging an inch. Her bright orange eyes were wide, but, like with Greyleaf, Mistface couldn’t see specifically what she was saying with them.</p><p> </p><p>Curious, Mistface skidded down the tree again and started for the pair, moving as quietly and quickly as he could. The many cats around him made it difficult to go in a straight line, but he managed to get to the edge of the cluster.</p><p> </p><p>He paused. The molly was leaning forward now, and he could see that her eyes were wild with an intense mix of emotions. Her voice was still inaudible, and, unfortunately, Mistface had never learned how to read lips. He stood still, waiting for his brother’s reaction as the molly stopped talking.</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf didn’t do anything for a moment. His face was just as intense now, but, for once, Mistface couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He slowly shut his eyes, took in a deep breath, and said something to the molly. His eyes flickered away for just a moment and they caught sight of Mistface.</p><p> </p><p>“I better go,” he said, loud enough for Mistface to hear. “My brother’s…”</p><p> </p><p>At once, the molly’s posture straightened and her face calmed. She looked like an entirely different cat in an instant…but Mistface wondered why her eyes were suddenly so exhausted.</p><p> </p><p>“Consider it,” she said, her voice low and yet ringing clear. “Just consider it.”</p><p> </p><p>Without glancing at Mistface, she turned sharply and walked away, each step regal, yet with a patroller’s directness. Mistface watched her move towards a small group of cats, who looked up as she approached and greeted her cheerfully.</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf stared after her, too, and his face was still unreadable. Slowly, his eyes drifted down to the ground ahead of him, eyelids slightly lowered. He said nothing as Mistface walked up to him; didn’t even look over or twitch his ear.</p><p> </p><p>Mistface felt a sudden need to break the tension, so he gently nudged Greyleaf with a smile. “You didn’t tell me you had a girl, my brother.”</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf jolted and the tension left his body. He blinked stupidly at Mistface. “Huh? I d- what?”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface jerked his head at the molly, who was now leaving the grove with that small group. “Who was that chickadee you were talkin’ to?”</p><p> </p><p>“Th-“ Greyleaf followed his line of sight and jolted again. “Oh- no, she-“ He inhaled sharply. “She’s a deputy, that’s all. She was, uh- she was asking some advice about healing. Wanted to see if I was, uh, interested in helping out in her area.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hm.” Mistface looked at his brother slyly. “You sound real certain about that.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was just an offer, is all,” Greyleaf said uncomfortably. “She needed help.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface knew something was off, but he didn’t want to make his brother more uneasy, so he simply replied, “Don’t you take that job. You’ve got it good where you are.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” Greyleaf sighed and nodded with an incredible lack of enthusiasm. “Yeah, I do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Now, come along.” Mistface turned around and tapped him with his tail. “I wanna get one of those rocks for Mama.”</p><p> </p><p>He started off, not sure how to feel that Greyleaf took a long moment to follow after him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For more information on the members of the Margays, visit https://calitraditionalism.tumblr.com/post/186494911293/the-characters-that-consist-of-the-minor.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Littlepaw’s tail was limp as she trailed after her mother back to Hillock. By now, the fawn calico was exhausted from an evening of doing her best to make polite conversation with other seer apprentices.</p><p> </p><p>She tried to cheer herself up by reminding herself that at least she got to see the Margays, and briefly, that worked. However, then Littlepaw remembered how her discussion with one of the actresses was soured and cut short by Morningsky. Her ears laid flat against her skull in embarrassment as she thought back to it. Why did her mother have to make Littlepaw accompany her throughout the coterie gathering? Plenty of other apprentices were off doing their own thing, she remembered.</p><p> </p><p>“That was a reasonably successful evening, Littlepaw.”</p><p> </p><p>The seer apprentices’s thoughts were interrupted by her mother’s voice. She briefly considered arguing, finally putting her foot down this time, but then Littlepaw remembered how dismissive Morningsky had been the few other times she’d tried. What would be the point?</p><p> </p><p>“It was, Mother.” She put no effort into making her automatic response sound even vaguely cheerful. Morningsky didn’t seem to notice. Didn’t notice or didn’t care? Sometimes Littlepaw had to wonder.</p><p> </p><p>Morningsky continued on. “It’s a shame that I couldn’t find that healer for the leaders again, though.” Her fur fluffed up a bit in indignation. “You would think a cat of his status would remember to finish a conversation and try to find us after that performance!”</p><p> </p><p>There was another wave of embarrassment as Littlepaw was reminded of the conversation with Greyleaf. She was perceptive enough to notice his discomfort, back then. If her tail could droop lower than it did now, it would. “Maybe he couldn’t find us, either,” Littlepaw offered weakly.</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose,” Morningsky huffed, sounding unconvinced. “Though you would think if he was looking as well, one of us would have found the other.”</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw didn’t bother responding. Mercifully, Morningsky didn’t have more to say, either, and the rest of the journey home was quiet and uneventful.</p><p> </p><p>When she arrived back at camp, Littlepaw headed to her usual resting spot, hoping to sleep away her bad mood, even though part of her knew this would bother her for longer than just the remainder of the night. It did take some time, but eventually, the seer apprentice was able to drift off.</p><p> </p><p>However, Littlepaw’s sleep wasn’t dreamless. She was greeted by an idealistic landscape: bright, healthy grass of the perfect length, flowers dotting the landscape, and a beautiful sunrise in the distance. A small yellow butterfly carelessly fluttered near the seer apprentice’s feet, as if having no concern for the threat a cat may pose. </p><p> </p><p>Despite the scenery, Littlepaw felt tense when she saw it. Would she have to deal with more seer stuff? She already had enough after that coterie gathering! Couldn’t she just have a normal rest tonight, like a normal-</p><p> </p><p>“Relax, Littlepaw. Your mind wandered here of its own accord.” Littlepaw looked over to see a familiar figure nearby. There stood a pale golden tabby, with the lankiness and plumed tail that many Hillock cats had. However, signature to a member of Starclan, her pelt was ever-so-slightly translucent and speckled with stars. More strikingly, her eyes looked as though the night sky was contained within them. </p><p> </p><p>“Right. Because I’m more prone to dreaming and stuff,” Littlepaw mumbled somewhat defeatedly as she sat down in the grass. “Anything you want to talk about, Meliclight, since I’m here?”</p><p> </p><p>Meliclight looked at her with a gentle gaze. Almost motherly, in the good-kind-of-mom way. “I think you have things you want to talk about more than I do.” Delicately, she sat down next to the seer apprentice.</p><p> </p><p>Hesitantly, Littlepaw nodded. She silently watched the scenery for a bit longer before speaking up again. “I’m just… tired of my mother. More than usual, after today. Even at the coterie gathering, she just focused on getting me in a more prestigious position, because she wants me in one. She never asked what I want, even though the gathering was supposed to be a day of fun.” </p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw’s fur began to bristle and her voice rose with anger without her really noticing. “She soured the thing I did want! Acted with a bunch of contempt around an actress of the Margays and pulled me away.” With rare sarcasm, she added,”On the bright side, I got to hear her say nice things about me when she was embarrassingly talking me up to other cats. Mother never really compliments me when we’re alone. It’s always ‘Make sure to keep at your seer training’ and stuff like that. Nothing I do is enough! Sometimes I just… sometimes I just want to run away, outside of Clan territory, and escape it all!”</p><p> </p><p>Meliclight listened as Littlepaw vented her frustrations. She was quiet for a bit, seeming to be thinking on what to say, before responding. “You don’t need to do something like that to escape, Littlepaw. If you quit being a seer apprentice, you won’t have to keep doing it. You can just be a regular apprentice that has more dreams than most. But you need to make the choice to quit, or Starclan will still visit you regularly like any other seer apprentice.” </p><p> </p><p>With some concern in her voice, she continued,”Besides, Starclan cannot protect you if you’re outside of the Clan. I cannot advise leaving the territory, especially when you have not been trained to hunt or fight.”</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw hummed in agreement. “Yeah… you’re right. That’d be rash.” There was a pause as she considered Meliclight’s words more. “I don’t get why I’ve always had more dreams than most cats in the first place though. Between that and Mother’s insistence, it feels kinda like I’m supposed to train to be a seer, even if I don’t want to.”</p><p> </p><p>Meliclight shook her head. “Even Starclan does not know why some cats are more prone to dreams than others, Littlepaw. You were not given this talent by anyone with the expectation that you use it. It’s like how someone can simply have the talent for hunting, even if their heart lies elsewhere.”</p><p> </p><p>There was another silence as Littlepaw thought it over. “Alright. I don’t know if I can handle staying in Hillock, though, if I choose to be a warrior apprentice. Mother will be a pain about it, for sure. It’s a shame because most of Hillock’s fine, but…” Littlepaw trailed off for a bit. “I think I’ll have to go somewhere else within the territory.”</p><p> </p><p>Meliclight nodded in understanding. “If you think that would be best, then it’s a reasonable decision.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks for the talk, Meliclight.” She looked up to the taller cat with an appreciative gaze. “Especially since you didn’t plan for it, and all.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was not a problem at all, Littlepaw.” Meliclight assured her. “Good luck.”</p><p> </p><p>With that, Littlepaw woke up to the gentle sound of rainfall. It was the perfect weather for running away. She was not an expert on tracking, but she knew enough to be aware that the rain would hide her scent, to some extent. Maybe the group would be fine with her leaving, but Littlepaw didn’t want to take any chances. </p><p> </p><p>Looking around, she saw that she was the only cat up. It was hard to say because of the clouds, but if she had to make a guess, she’d say that it was a bit before dawn. Littlepaw didn’t know if her being awake at the right time with the right weather was Starclan’s doing, but if so, she thanked them in her thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>Quietly, Littlepaw made her leave. She felt like she’d miss her group, but at the same time, she was excited. </p><p> </p><p>The possibilities went through her head as she went forth. Maybe she could join a group in the Scattered. Maybe she could just wander the territory for a while.</p><p> </p><p>Or maybe she could finally follow that dream of hers. That dream of running away to join the Margays.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For more information on StarClan, visit https://calitraditionalism.tumblr.com/post/185760717523/religion-starclan.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Far in the southern marshes of the Territory, someone else was watching the clouds roll in from the north with intense interest.</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang, a sturdily-built ticked tabby, kneaded at the soft, grassy ground below her feet. Even at this distance, she could smell the rain coming towards her. It wasn’t <em>too</em> far away; it’d take maybe an hour before the heavy stuff hit where she was now. By then, the sun would fully be up, but she figured these stormclouds were thick enough that it’d be dim anyways. The lack of sunlight to give reflections on the water would encourage the rest of the family to head towards the lake on the border, where there were bigger fish to catch.</p><p> </p><p>Nighttime would have been preferable, but Flyfang wasn’t willing to wait until then. Who knew how long it would rain for? She was only waiting for the ceremony to be over to-</p><p> </p><p>“There you are!”</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang jumped and looked back with alarm, which immediately went away as she recognized her little sisters standing side by side behind her. She turned fully to them with an automatic grin.</p><p> </p><p>“And there<em> you </em>are,” she said.</p><p> </p><p>One of the kits, Gnatkit, was the spitting image of her: a stout and rounded grey molly with flecked markings all over her back.  The other, Mosquitokit, was black with white feet and a white marking on her chest, and her tail was waving back and forth in delight.</p><p> </p><p>“How do we look?” asked Gnatkit. She stood like a warrior on watch, but Flyfang could only see a kitten fresh out of the nursery.</p><p> </p><p>“You look ready to get yourselves some mentors.” Flyfang bent down a little to meet their eye levels and winked. “Don’t worry, I made sure you’ll have the best ones in the family.”</p><p> </p><p>“And in the Territory?” asked Mosquitokit, leaning forward far enough to almost fall onto her face. Her wide eyes faintly reflected the clouds that were now behind Flyfang.</p><p> </p><p>“Weeellll…” Flyfang looked around and leaned in as well, whispering conspiratorially, “Don’t tell your mentors, but I think there might be some better ones out in the valley.”</p><p> </p><p>Mosquitokit gasped and swatted at Flyfang’s nose. “Don’t say that!”</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t do a very good job finding us mentors, then,” Gnatkit said, and jerked away from another swipe aimed at her shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Ravenleap and Troutpath are good!” Flyfang protested, rubbing her nose as if she’d been actually struck. “They’ll be fine for now.”</p><p> </p><p>At this, her sisters went quiet and looked at each other with concern. They knew better than to continue down the “for now” conversation thread, but that unspoken topic floated over all of them in place of the dark grey clouds.</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang quickly recovered with another grin. “Now, let’s go back. The first one there gets to push the other two into the water!"</p><p> </p><p>Her sisters squawked as Flyfang leapt over their heads and started off at a jog. She heard them scrambling to follow her and picked up her pace just enough to keep them running without pushing each other out of the way.</p><p> </p><p>The three of them jumped over the small criss-crossing streams that threaded their home without a second thought, throwing joking insults back and forth as they went. As the grass started to flatten and expose the other family members of the Marish that were all heading the same way, Gnatkit and Mosquitokit had caught up to Flyfang and were trying to slow her down by grabbing her tail between their teeth or attacking her paws to make her stumble. When they crossed the last stream and entered the wide island that was the Marish’s current camp, Flyfang let herself topple over and cry out as her sisters wrestled with her legs and ears.</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang knew they were disturbing the peace of the camp, just as she knew without looking that the deputy was standing nearby and watching her disdainfully. Minnownose, an elderly grey-brown-and-white molly, had gotten everyone else to obediently turn over the responsibility of raising their kits to the heads of the Marish. The kits’ father, Swiftdust, had already agreed to let her make all decisions regarding Gnatkit and Mosquitokit’s lives. The family had always been overly submissive in all respects – no fighting, no telling hurtful truths, just listen to your seniors no matter how insane they were – and it was considered natural that the “entire family” should decide the fate of the kits living there.</p><p>Which was why they all hated Flyfang so much.</p><p> </p><p>Of course, no one would admit they hated her. That wasn’t the Marish way. All but Minnownose had given up on trying to get Flyfang to “calm down” and “just obey her elders”. Now they just ignored her when she walked past or gave her looks when she started wrestling with the twins. But Flyfang knew they hated her regardless. The Marish were secretive, but they weren’t as subtle as they thought they were.</p><p> </p><p>It was why Flyfang was preparing an escape once her sisters’ apprentice ceremony was complete, something that was almost as bad as murder in the Marish. She’d done a lot of persuading and pleading to get the most open-minded members of the family to agree to request her sisters as apprentices, so they could be well cared for in her absence. Flyfang couldn’t take them now, with them just being six months old – apprentices had to be nine months before they could travel safely and without anyone protesting for their health. She planned to come back and sneak them off once they’d learned how to hunt and fight and were more developed and able to walk long distances. She just couldn’t stay here any longer. This was killing her.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, alright!” she cried, laughing. “Let me up!”</p><p> </p><p>“Only if you promise not to throw us in the water!” Mosquitokit punctuated this with a bite on Flyfang’s cheek.</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t hurt too badly, but Flyfang yelped anyway. “I won’t! I won’t! Someone help!”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a grown warrior,” Minnownose cut in, her cold voice slicing through the humid air. “Should you be acting like this and encouraging your sisters to play rough before their ceremony?”</p><p> </p><p>Immediately, the kits let go of Flyfang and backed away nervously. Flyfang rolled her eyes, sighed as loudly as she could, and got to her feet.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know,” she said to Minnownose, “you tell me. You’re fond of that, aren’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>Minnownose did not rise to her bait. Instead, she made a beckoning motion with her tail. “I’d like to talk to you.”</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang looked back at her sisters and made a face. The two of them fought off their giggles and sat down, grooming themselves to look busy. Flyfang gently tapped both of their heads with her tail and walked silently to the deputy, her smile replaced with narrowed eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Minnownose led her a small distance away, just far enough that they could not be heard by the rest of the family. She turned around, sat, and curled her tail around her paws. Flyfang stayed standing, silently daring her to order her to sit too.</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t. Instead she mirrored Flyfang’s narrowed eyes. “Your sisters are to be apprenticed today. Do you know the mentors we’ve chosen?”</p><p> </p><p><em>“We”, sure,</em> Flyfang thought nastily.<em> Always “we” in this family, isn’t it? </em>“Ravenleap and Troutpath. They told-“</p><p> </p><p>“They talked with me and requested to become mentors,” Minnownose interrupted, colder than before. “They did their best to make it sound like it was their idea. However, I’m not stupid. I know you put them up to it.”</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang said nothing.</p><p> </p><p>“I humored you this one last time,” Minnownose went on. “You have your little victory over me this one last time. After today, you’ve lost all right to tell me what to do with the kits and apprentices of this family.”</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang’s fur bristled all over her body. Her claws unsheathed of their own accord as she tried to remind herself that it didn’t matter because she was leaving anyway. It didn’t help any; she still wanted nothing more than to claw the contempt off of the old bat’s face.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s all.” Minnownose stood up and walked past Flyfang. “The ceremony’s starting now. Come.”</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang vaguely wondered how life would be once she didn’t have anyone she hated in her face all the time as she followed the deputy.</p><p> </p><p>The clouds were getting closer already, almost covering the sun. That was nice.</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang could barely enjoy the ceremony. She watched her sisters become apprentices and greet their mentors without really absorbing it, chanted their names without thought. Her enthusiasm was there, but she was hardly thinking. The family ended the ceremony with Minnownose announcing a hunting party and leading almost all of them south, where the streams got thicker and thicker until they pooled into a lake. The only ones left in the camp were Flyfang, her sisters and their mentors.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re going to show them around the marsh,” Troutpath said to Flyfang. “Would you like to come with us?”</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang shook her head. “Not right now. I want to see how the hunting is up towards the valley. Best fish are at the lake, I know, but we’ve been having some luck with the smaller schools, so.”</p><p> </p><p>Troutpath nodded. “We can meet you up there later?”</p><p> </p><p>A light in her old mentor’s eyes told her that he had a suspicion that she was up to something, but, like always, he had her back and said nothing. She simply smiled and returned the nod before speaking to her sisters, who had run up to her.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll see you guys later,” she said, keeping her tone casual. “You’ll be alright without me for a bit, I’m sure.”</p><p> </p><p>They were smart enough to not give her away. Instead, they both pressed their noses into her shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you very much,” she said, low enough for only them to hear. “And I’ll be back, I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>Mosquitopaw nodded and murmured, “We’ll be the worst apprentices.”</p><p> </p><p>“Even worse than you,” Gnatpaw agreed in a whisper.</p><p> </p><p>“Atta girls.” Flyfang gave them a lick on the ear each and stepped back, waving her tail casually and raising her voice. “Hopefully fishing’s good upriver. Have fun on the tour, you two.”</p><p> </p><p>Neither of the apprentices spoke. They just nodded and turned away slowly, following their mentors as they left camp. Flyfang noticed with some small mix of pride and grief that they didn’t look back, just stayed cool and natural on their departure.</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang waited until they were far enough away to not hear her footsteps before starting off at a half-run north. The rain started up, gently tapping her along her spine and shoulders. She picked up her pace just as the rain did the same. She sent a silent thanks to the <a href="https://calitraditionalism.tumblr.com/post/190007353133/petrichor-aspect-of-rain-petrichor-represents">rain’s aspect</a> that she was struggling to see far ahead of herself and that her paws were already soaked – it’d be too difficult for the Marish to track her down and force her to return in weather like this.</p><p> </p><p>The streams merged and grew wider, and within a few minutes they united into one river, just as the grass became softer and brighter in color. Flyfang grinned, genuinely and widely, and broke into a full sprint, not caring where she was going, just that the Marish were now behind her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For more information on the Marish, visit https://calitraditionalism.tumblr.com/post/186058040008/families-marish.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the coterie gathering, Mistface and Greyleaf had parted ways. The warrior had, in fact, managed to barter for one of those ‘halo pieces’ mentioned during the story, and brought it along back home. He probably wouldn’t have gotten one if it were just for himself, but Mistface figured that Nettlecloud would appreciate the small trinket.</p><p> </p><p>Once he arrived home, Mistface headed over to his mother. Though the sun had set by now, she was laying down but awake, stargazing.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m back, Mama,” Mistface greeted her, setting down the sparkling rock. “Surprised you’re up, though. I’d’ve thought you’d be gettin’ rest about now.”</p><p> </p><p>With an amused purr, Nettlecloud responded,”I’ve been restin’ all day, love.” Her voice still sounded a bit weak from illness, Mistface noticed. She looked over at the halo piece that was now sitting in the grass. “No need to dwell on that, though. Looks like you got yourself a deal with the Magpies?”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface nodded, before sitting down next to her. “Thought I’d bring you somethin’ from that coterie. They’d been talkin’ about the moon aspect’s halo pieces durin’ the Margays’ tale.”</p><p> </p><p>“Awful nice of you to do that,” Nettlecloud said with a smile. With a gently teasing tone, she added,”Perhaps you could join the Magpies yourself, with that charisma of yours.”</p><p> </p><p>He rolled his eyes, but smiled back. “Mama, you know I’d be caught halfway to Starclan before you’d find me runnin’ off to try and sell everything I find.”</p><p> </p><p>Nettlecloud chuckled at that. “Alright, you needn’t be so dramatic about it.” She paused, looking him over before adding,”Anyways, you should be gettin’ some rest, now. You’ve been up all day, after all. I’d love to hear more ‘bout the coterie in the morning, though.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fair enough. I’ll make sure to tell you more later.” Mistface began to head over to his usual resting spot, before throwing over a glance to add one last thing. “Make sure you try and get some more rest too though, Mama. I don’t want you gettin’ sicker, alright?”</p><p> </p><p>With some amusement, Nettlecloud agreed, “I will, don’t you worry. I’ll get back to restin’ off this illness soon enough.”</p><p> </p><p>As the week passed, however, and Nettlecloud only seemed to be getting worse. Mistface’s concern grew as time went by. </p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot stopped by one afternoon near the end of the week. Swiftly, he headed over to Mistface. “I have another message for you and Nettlecloud from Greyleaf,” he stated promptly once he reached the tom. “Is she around?”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you goin’ to insist she’s gotta be around for it?” Mistface asked with just a hint of annoyance. His tail swished a bit.</p><p> </p><p>“No. I was simply asking,” Beetlefoot replied with a frown.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Realizing that he might’ve jumped to conclusions too quickly there, he gave as close to an apology as he could. “I’ve been a mite antsy about her. She’s restin’, at the moment. Still sick.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see.” Beetlefoot shuffled his paws slightly. It occurred to Mistface that the tom actually seemed worried about Nettlecloud.</p><p> </p><p>The messenger cleared his throat. “Well, Greyleaf’s message is that ‘I had a safe trip back from the coterie gathering. Thank you for coming to see me there. Thornstar’s still sick, so I’ve been busy with that, but he seems to be recovering now.’”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s good,” Mistface said, but it was somewhat half-hearted. There was a brief silence between the two cats.</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot was the one to speak up again. “Is Nettlecloud… getting better, at least?”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface shook his head. “‘Fraid not. She’s only been gettin’ worse.” Another pause. “If only Greyleaf were here to check it out.”</p><p> </p><p>“I could take a message to him to come back,” Beetlefoot offered, though he looked uncertain. “If she’s getting worse like you say, though, that might not be prompt enough. Even with my speed.”</p><p> </p><p>The blue-grey tom, though disappointed, hummed in agreement. </p><p> </p><p>“Or I could fetch a wandering healer. I know of one called Shinerpelt that should be in the area.”</p><p> </p><p>This wasn’t all too comforting to him. “Pelt, you say?” Based on the suffix, it sounded like this cat didn’t have the same skill level as Greyleaf. Sure, of the options Mistface was given by a Scattered deputy, he had chosen one that wasn’t talent related, but most cats wouldn’t do that.</p><p> </p><p>“Pelt,” Beetlefoot affirmed. “From what I know, he’s still quite competent, just not exceptional.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right,” Mistface stated. He didn’t feel entirely convinced, but he knew it wasn’t really rational to doubt this Shinerpelt.  “I’m just used to the best, I suppose. Gettin’ Shinerpelt makes the most sense. So you’re allowed to deviate from your route like that?”</p><p> </p><p>The smaller tom looked a little uncomfortable. “I- Technically, Phoebestar wants messengers to stick strictly to their routes. Easier to keep track and make sure nobody’s missing, that way. She focuses a lot on safety, more so than previous Fleet leaders. But I’ll make an exception. I doubt anyone will get too upset, even if they notice at all.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface was surprised, with how dedicated to his work Beetlefoot seemed in past encounters. “I appreciate it,” he responded, with a nod. “After you send word to Shinerpelt, could you get a message to Greyleaf? Tell him our Mama has been gettin’ sicker and he should really come over for a visit, if he can.”</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot dipped his head in acknowledgement. “I can do that. I should get going, then.” </p><p> </p><p>With that, the tom sprinted off, and soon disappeared from view once again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For more about healers, visit https://calitraditionalism.tumblr.com/post/184658209838/ranks-healers-and-seers.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Littlepaw only paused for a moment to catch her breath and look behind her.</p><p> </p><p>The rain was dense and being thrown down from the clouds with enough force to feel like strikes from annoyed insects along her pelt. There was no fog, but there didn’t need to be; the silhouette of the hills Littlepaw had left was barely visible now because of the rain, and there seemed to be nothing up ahead that was close enough to be seen from here. She’d been going at no slower than a jog ever since she started, but it was impossible to tell how long ago that had been with the clouds blocking the sun.</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw was freezing. There was not a dry hair on her body, the ground was muddy enough to make her trip a few times, and it was impossible to lift her head high without rain hitting her in the eyes. </p><p> </p><p>She had never been as delighted in all her life as she was right now.</p><p> </p><p>That said, the momentary stop gave her stomach the opportunity to threateningly growl at her. Littlepaw realized that she hadn’t thought of how she was to eat before running away. She had never been taught how to hunt or fight – her mother had insisted that she dedicate all her time to seerhood and disregarded everything else as “unnecessary”.</p><p> </p><p>Not for the first time, Littlepaw sarcastically thanked her mother in her head for all her help and looked around, half hoping something would just walk up to her without noticing she was there. Nothing did, of course, so she thought carefully on the little she had witnessed from normal apprentices training or playing. She had instincts, of course, as did every cat, but what good were unpracticed subconscious ideas she had never utilized before?</p><p> </p><p>If she remembered right, hunters tasted the air or sniffed until they caught the smell of prey. They would then stalk the prey once they found it and then pounce before killing it with a bite. That seemed simple enough. Even she could do that.</p><p> </p><p>The rain’s effect on the earth under her paws made it difficult to smell anything beyond the petrichor the storm brought, but she caught something faintly like a mouse nearby. She couldn’t hear it over the weather, so she carefully went back and forth, following the scent trail, keeping low and moving slowly. She was very aware how goofy she looked crouch-walking for the first time in her life. She’d seen the other apprentices in their first attempts, and it always made her stifle a laugh.</p><p> </p><p>She peered over a drooping patch of grass and caught sight of her prey – a small brown thing much like a mouse, but with no white belly. The only white it had was on its head, in a little star just above its eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw didn’t quite sigh in relief, but the worry melted out of her body. StarClan had blessed this particular piece of prey, making it slower, bigger and easier to catch. She would have to be a total idiot to mess this up.</p><p> </p><p>The rainfall covered her footsteps as she approached, low as she could go without dragging her belly on the ground. The animal didn’t appear to notice her; it was looking around as if the weather had totally confused it. It scrubbed at its face when a few precisely-aimed raindrops hit it in the head and eyes, turning away from where Littlepaw was.</p><p> </p><p>She took the opportunity and jumped for it. She just barely landed short, but her paw was on its tail. When it squeaked and tried to flee, it was stuck in place, scrambling in the mud. Littlepaw bit down as hard on its neck as she could and it went limp.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you for this, StarClan,” Littlepaw said, looking upwards as far as she could without rain splashing on her nose or eyes. She wasn’t sure what the regular line was to say, but she knew all hunters gave at least one word of gratitude when they caught blessed prey.</p><p> </p><p>With that, she sat down and ate, grateful that the meat was warm. Filling her stomach made the cold ignorable for now. She didn’t see the point in grooming herself after her meal when she was soggy and muddy, so she finished with the tail and kept moving.</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw hadn’t kept track of the turns she had made while searching for her catch, and the rain was falling harder than ever. She couldn’t even see the hills anymore. She hesitated, looking this way and that, trying to guess where she was. She puzzled over this for a moment, growing more and more distressed as she lingered in this place. The image of Morningsky discovering she was gone and following her became brighter and brighter in her mind, until she was imagining being dragged home by the tail.</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw fiercely shook her head, but the distress was threatening to turn into panic. With no idea where she was going, she picked a random direction and started off at a run again.</p><p> </p><p>She traveled for long enough that she lost track of time. The rain didn’t let up at all, and after a while Littlepaw suspected she was traveling with the clouds rather than just passing under them. It helped to keep her tracks covered, at least, but she was out in the valley with no idea of where she was. It didn’t help that there were no other cats out in this weather. More troublingly, due to living in the open or in hollow scrapes, Littlepaw couldn’t detect any dens around her. She thought she remembered hearing that they were dug in the ground and hidden by grass. She didn’t think that poking around in every pile of grass and potentially shoving her head into someone’s home would be a good idea, so she kept moving. Besides, she was already soaked through. It didn’t matter if she got shelter now. She just had to keep moving.</p><p> </p><p>As she slowed to a walk, shivers took over her body, all the way down to her tail. Her head got lower and lower as she went, hoping that she’d run into someone who could at least direct her to…</p><p> </p><p>To where, exactly?</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw stopped in her tracks. She hadn’t considered her destination beyond the fantasy of finding the Margays and joining them in their travels across the Territory. She didn’t know where they were going to stop next, and even if she did, this rain was so thick she couldn’t find her way to them. She could barely see the stray bushes around her. She’d have to find somewhere to stop and wait for the storm to pass, she supposed, but even then she’d have to start asking around if anyone knew where they went, and who knew if she was even near any Scattered cats-</p><p> </p><p>There was a flash of light overhead, followed by a roar of thunder so loud Littlepaw felt it shake her. She jumped in alarm and half-ducked, almost expecting to be struck by lightning.</p><p> </p><p>“Son of a-“</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw raised her head a little, dripping ears swiveling. The voice was faint, but it was there, letting loose several more curses directed at the thunder. Littlepaw moved forward quickly, but the voice went silent, and now the smell of the rain and mud was strong enough to clog her nose.</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw did not want to lose this potential help. She called out, “Is someone there?”</p><p> </p><p>There was a pause, and then, “Uh, yeah! Who’s this?”</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw sighed in relief and kept walking. “An apprentice. I need some help.”</p><p> </p><p>She caught sight of a dark shape approaching and slowed her pace. This cat was larger than her (as most were), but the voice belonged to someone young. She stopped once the cat was close enough for Littlepaw to see her. She was dark grey and stout, with thick fur that barely seemed to feel the effects of the rain.</p><p> </p><p>“Honestly,” the molly said, shaking out her mottled pelt, “I could use some help too.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Flyfang’s first impression of this apprentice was of a shrunken, half-drowned snipe with a long, muddy tail. The little thing was shivering with not an inch of dry fur – even her belly was dripping water – and she looked like she was trying not to seem as stressed as she obviously was. It had never occurred to Flyfang that other cats outside of the marshes would not have pelts made to be dunked in water without getting the undercoat wet. Wherever this cat (she had to be a brand-new apprentice, she was so small) came from, she clearly did not have to deal with water very often.</p><p> </p><p>“Well…” the apprentice said, and shook out her fur too, scattering droplets that were smaller than the raindrops pelting the both of them. “Maybe we can help each other. I’m from the Hillock, and I’ve never been this far away from there, and I’m completely lost. I was trying to find someone who might know where the Margays are.”</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang blinked. “That far away? What are you doing out here alone?”</p><p> </p><p>The apprentice looked around, as if expecting someone else to be listening in. She leaned in to say quietly, “I actually ran away this morning. I’ve been traveling nonstop since I woke up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wow,” Flyfang said, and laughed. At the apprentice’s surprised and mildly offended look, she added, “Don’t worry, I’m a runaway too. Just left the Marish myself.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” The apprentice’s offense vanished, replaced by distress. “Well, then…then I must be pretty far south.”</p><p> </p><p>“I have no idea.” Flyfang looked behind her. “Once the rain clears up, we’ll be able to tell.” She turned back to the apprentice. “You must be freezing. Here, come on, I saw an empty den close by. We can wait out the storm there.”</p><p> </p><p>The apprentice hesitated and looked Flyfang up and down, scrutinizing.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not going to take you home, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Flyfang said, offering a confident smile. “I know how it is, wanting to leave. It’s just that you’re going to get sick if you stay out here.”</p><p> </p><p>The little molly’s blue eyes lowered as she thought, and eventually she nodded. Flyfang turned and started off, the apprentice squelching along in the mud behind her.</p><p> </p><p>The entrance to hollowed-out earth beneath an old stump was close enough that Flyfang found it easily despite the weather. She ducked her head and dipped into the den, which was completely dry and almost warm compared to outside. She didn’t bother shaking out her fur again, the water not having even started to penetrate her double coat. Instead, she got into a corner and settled down with a sigh.</p><p> </p><p>The apprentice <em>did</em> shake out her fur, not that it did much good, and followed her in, choosing the opposing corner to rest in. She started grooming out her pelt, tail trembling a little from the cold.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t get your name,” Flyfang said after a moment of silence.</p><p> </p><p>The apprentice paused and lifted her head. “I’m Littlepaw.”</p><p> </p><p>“Apt,” Flyfang remarked, and added, “My name’s Flyfang.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hello,” Littlepaw said. “Thank you for showing me this den. I’ve probably been passing by tens of them, but I don’t know what to look for.”</p><p> </p><p>“They’re doing their job, then,” Flyfang said as Littlepaw resumed grooming. “We couldn’t really make our own dens in the ground at the <a href="https://calitraditionalism.tumblr.com/post/185691517648/the-territory-notable-southern-locations">Quag</a> – mostly grass-coverings and such – but when you’re close enough to the north, you get to learn how to locate burrows. But wouldn’t you make your own dens in the hills?”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Littlepaw said between licks. “We have some scrapes, but we never dig for ourselves. They were there already, and they’re pretty easy to find.”</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang hummed a response and let Littlepaw continue with her grooming. Meanwhile, she considered what her next course of action should be. This was a tiny and very young apprentice out here on her own and, like Flyfang, fleeing some situation at home. Living with the Marish was miserable. Were the rest of the families that bad? How many apprentices were running around, trying to escape their parents and deputies? Would Flyfang have to find more of them and guide them like she did her sisters?</p><p> </p><p>“So what’s your story?” she said abruptly, her words sounding much louder in than she intended, ringing in this carved-out den. “Why did you leave?”</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw stopped again and swallowed air. Slowly, she turned fully to Flyfang and gave her front paws a nervous shift.</p><p> </p><p>“Well,” she mumbled, looking down, “It’ll sound dumb, probably, but… my mother is really overbearing, making me be a seer, trying to push me to work for the leaders - and no one was telling her to leave me alone or let me be a normal warrior. And I didn’t really have any friends there, so I thought… I thought I’d find the Margays and travel together, and make friends with <em>them.”</em></p><p> </p><p>She had been shrinking further and further into herself, getting quieter and quieter as she spoke. When she finished, she was almost crouching, wet tail curled as far around her body as it could go (which was quite an unusually long distance), looking deeply ashamed of herself.</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang felt a sharp stab of protectiveness and anger in her chest. “Hey, I know how that feels. The Marish are just the same way. They try to control every aspect of your life, down to how you raise your kits.”</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw looked up. “Really?”</p><p> </p><p>“I have sisters there,” Flyfang said. “Their father is worthless and tried to give control of their lives to the deputy, so I stepped in to raise them with the freedom to be whoever they wanted to be.” Her voice darkened. “The rest of the family isn’t very fond of me for a lot of reasons, but that’s the biggest one. I know they’re going to try and take the spirit out of my sisters, so as soon as they turn nine months old, I’m going back and getting them out of there.”</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw said nothing at first, drawing out the silence and giving Flyfang time to make herself relax. After a while, Littlepaw spoke up.</p><p> </p><p>“How come you left them there?” she asked. “Instead of just staying with them?”</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang sighed. “I couldn’t stand another second in the marshes. I made sure they have good mentors who will encourage their personalities… or about as well as one can when you’re in the Marish. The broad in charge of that stupid family made sure to tell me that I wasn’t going to be tolerated if I kept getting involved after they became -paws, anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Littlepaw said softly. “That sounds a lot worse than what I had to deal with.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, no,” Flyfang hastened to assure her. “It’s about the same. If your entire family wasn’t helping you with your mother, they might as well have all been against you. Did the deputy even say anything?”</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw shook her head. “Never. She kind of…deliberately ignores bad things that happen.”</p><p> </p><p>“And<em> my</em> deputy was overly focused on everything and treated it all as bad.” Flyfang’s smile returned, bigger than before. “So we’re in the same stream, more or less, just facing different directions.”</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw did return a faint smile at that, though it looked like it took a lot of effort. Silence fell in the den as she continued clearing off the water and Flyfang took to thinking again. The only sounds were the rasp of Littlepaw’s tongue on soaking fur and the steady pummeling of the rain outside.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve got it rougher, though,” Flyfang said finally. “You might have to go back, being as young as you are. Unless someone were to claim you, or-“</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw’s head jerked up. “I’m nine months old. I can travel.”</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang gawked at her. “You are?”</p><p> </p><p>This time, Littlepaw managed a tiny, weak laugh. “I’m just runty, that’s all.”</p><p> </p><p>“That could be to your advantage, you know,” Flyfang said. “Just pitch up your voice a little and come up to older cats asking for prey. You wouldn’t have to hunt until you became a warrior.”</p><p> </p><p>“I actually caught my first prey today.” Littlepaw straightened further to puff out her soggy chest. “I was never taught how to. I guess I got lucky.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your mom wouldn’t even let you learn how to hunt?” Flyfang guessed, angry again.</p><p> </p><p>“She said it’d distract me from my connections with StarClan,” Littlepaw replied, and smiled a little wryly. “And yet they were the ones to tell me to do whatever I wanted. So joke’s on her, I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank the stars, eh?”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank the stars.” Littlepaw’s smile melted away. “But now I don’t know where to go. I have no idea where the Margays are going, and I’m worried my mother will track me down and drag me home.”</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang felt a sudden pressure to be the experienced, smart adult and make decisions for the both of them. She knew Littlepaw probably wouldn’t travel with her, but she couldn’t just let someone who only hunted once in her life wander into the great big world with no one to help.</p><p> </p><p>“What about the Clast?” she blurted.</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw blinked.</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang fumbled for further ideas. “Well, no one goes to the Clast unless they’re looking for a fight, right? And your mom wouldn’t expect that of you, would she? You don’t seem like the fighting type.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not,” Littlepaw admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“And they might have someone there who knows where the Margays are going,” Flyfang continued, quickly becoming enthused by the idea. “No need to stay there for long, but it’ll throw everyone off – your mom, the Marish, if they come after me-“</p><p> </p><p>“Ah-“ Littlepaw interrupted, immediately looking apologetic and shy. “I didn’t know we would go together.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is that an issue?” Flyfang tilted her head. “I can hunt and fight, and do both pretty well. I could teach you what you need to know. And I’d feel bad just leaving you alone after the storm’s done. Plus, I’d like to see the Margays myself. I’ve never gotten to watch their stories, but I hear they’re great.”</p><p> </p><p>“They’re <em>awesome,” </em>Littlepaw said with such enthusiasm that Flyfang almost drew her head back in surprise. “I saw one yesterday. It’s amazing. They have so many stories memorized! I’d love to learn them all.”</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang laughed. “I like stories myself. I have pretty much all the ones about <a href="https://calitraditionalism.tumblr.com/tagged/aspects">Derecho and Calcine</a> memorized.”</p><p> </p><p>“The disaster stories?” Littlepaw said, paw lifted to her mouth to poorly hide her amusement. “Those are a little grim.”</p><p> </p><p>“They’re <em>action-packed,”</em> Flyfang corrected her. “Very exciting. I’m sure they’re popular in the Clast settlement too.”</p><p> </p><p>Littlepaw gazed at the ceiling, head tilting back and forth in thought. She eventually looked back down at Flyfang, beaming. “I guess we’ll find out when we get there.”</p><p> </p><p>Flyfang nodded her affirmation with a grin.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“No.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface stared at Shinerpelt, mouth open and ears pinned back against his head. He should have been calm, should have been dignified in front of this stranger, but everything around him and that was him faded into black and his heart froze in place.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” the golden tom said, head tilted sympathetically. “That’s the only conclusion I can come to.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, that-“ Mistface looked back at his mother, who was lying down behind him. “That can’t be right.”</p><p> </p><p>Shinerpelt was unbothered. He simply continued on. “It’s not entirely rare among Scattered cats in the south. Nettlecloud, you’re unfortunately at the right age for it to start growing in-“</p><p> </p><p>“You know nothin’,” Mistface said, angry. “She’s not-“</p><p> </p><p>“Love,” Nettlecloud said gently, reaching out a paw and touching his flank. “It’s alright.”</p><p> </p><p>“The burning hills it is!” Mistface jerked around to face her. He could feel his fur standing straight up all over his body. “We need to get Greyleaf, he can diagnose you properly!”</p><p> </p><p>Nettlecloud blinked slowly at him. “He’ll find the same thing, I’m sure. There’s nothing we can do about it now. Beetlefoot and Greyleaf should be here in a day or two. We can talk about it with them then.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface opened his mouth, but no words would come out. He just shook his head, pacing back and forth.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you for comin’, Shinerpelt,” Nettlecloud said to the healer. “Would you like somethin’ to eat?”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s not getting’ any food,” Mistface almost snapped. “Why-“</p><p> </p><p>Nettlecloud turned her gaze on him, and it was so unusually stern and stony that his jaw snapped shut on its own. “He’s a guest, and we treat our guests well. Now, Shinerpelt. Are you hungry?”</p><p> </p><p>Shinerpelt had the neutral expression of someone who had dealt with this kind of situation many times in his life and had long since gotten used to it. “I’m quite all right, ma’am, but thank you. I can’t do anything more at this point, and I was on my way to another family when your friend stopped me, so I should be going.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then go,” Mistface growled, but almost immediately after biting out those two words, the anger drained out of him and he sat down heavily in the grass.</p><p> </p><p>Shinerpelt nodded respectfully to Nettlecloud and curtly to Mistface. He gave one last apology to the old molly before trotting off westward.</p><p> </p><p>The mother and son were silent until he was far enough away that he wouldn’t hear them. Eventually, Mistface looked over at Nettlecloud and croaked, “How can you be so calm about this?”</p><p> </p><p>“Why be anything else?” Nettlecloud said simply. “There’s nothing to be done.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface hung his head in grief.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It seemed like an entire season had passed before the wind carried those familiar scents to Mistface’s nose late into the night. He sighed and marveled that, for the first time in his life, he was not looking forward to seeing his brother. Nettlecloud was dozing in a patch of flowers, the grass and leaves gently tugging at her fur whenever she shifted. Mistface watched her unhappily until he heard Beetlefoot’s voice calling for him. He stood up, slow and uneasy, and moved forward without really thinking to meet them a small distance away.</p><p> </p><p>“Good evening,” Beetlefoot said, but whatever else he was about to say visibly wilted in his mouth as he looked at Mistface (who was very aware how disheveled his coat was). He glanced between the brothers and stepped a little to the side.</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf’s eyes roamed over his brother, concern growing into anxiety. “What’s going on?”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface wished he was anywhere else in the world than here. He lowered his head, his eyes closing on their own, and braced himself.</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf’s voice trembled a little. “Mistface, what happened?”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface inhaled slowly, and opened his eyes. “Mama’s dyin’.”</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf froze in place. He stared, mouth slightly open, claws digging into the ground.</p><p> </p><p>“We had a healer come by and check on her,” Mistface continued softly. “Cancer of some kind. He said there’s nothin’ we can do.”</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot did not quite gasp, but his next breath was sharp and alarmed. Mistface looked over at him, dully noting a growing distress in his body language.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s still awake, a little,” he said. “She’ll be happy to see you.”</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot must have gotten the hint, because he gave a jerky nod and almost ran past the brothers, leaving them to their conversation. Mistface’s ears swiveled back and he caught his mother sleepily greeting the messenger, who spoke quietly to her in response.</p><p> </p><p>When he looked back to his brother, he blinked in confusion. There was grief in his face, yes, a little, but moreover, his eyes were wide with horror and his mouth trembled as if he was scared out of his mind. He almost didn’t look like he was present for this discussion – his sight was unfocused and his head nearly tilted skyward for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>“Greyleaf,” Mistface said, and it took a lot of energy to force his voice above a murmur.</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf jumped like Mistface had hit him. He gasped in the first breath he had taken in a few seconds and stuttered, “You’re- you’re sure.”</p><p> </p><p>“That rothead healer was pretty sure, but you can check yourself, if you like.” Mistface glanced backwards. Nettlecloud had her head lifted up, her already droopy fur sagging with petals and grass blades all over her face and neck. She looked sweetly amused at whatever Beetlefoot was saying to her (and Mistface noticed that he was making an effort to look more friendly than was natural for a face that was made for frowning like his).</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf audibly swallowed and walked past his brother without saying a word. Mistface followed just as silently.</p><p> </p><p>Nettlecloud caught sight of her son and beamed. “I’m glad to see you again, dearest.”</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf could barely force a smile. “Hi. I’ve… I’ve heard the news.”</p><p> </p><p>“I was afraid that I would have to be the one to tell you.” Nettlecloud sighed, still looking peaceful and serene as ever. “How were your travels?”</p><p> </p><p>“They…” Greyleaf shook his head like a fly was bothering him. “They were fine. Let me take a look at you, Mama.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface and Beetlefoot sat off to the side together and watched as Greyleaf sniffed, prodded, and asked his mother questions. She answered them all just the way she had to Shinerpelt, but in a much quieter voice. Greyleaf took his time, inspecting carefully around the chest and stomach, where Shinerpelt had found the lump. Eventually, he stepped back, his fur rising along his tail and back.</p><p> </p><p>“He was right,” Greyleaf said, a little choked.</p><p> </p><p>Mistface sunk to his stomach. Beetlefoot said nothing.</p><p> </p><p>“It’ll be alright,” Nettlecloud said, just as soothingly as she had to Mistface when they had first heard the news. “I’m not afraid to die, and I doubt that’ll happen anytime soon.”</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf had that look of horror on his face again, but it was replaced in a blink with a pathetic smile and forcibly bright eyes. “At least you’re not in any pain, I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>“Real silver linin’,” Mistface said darkly.</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf did not appear to hear him. He spoke again to Nettlecloud. “I can’t stay too long. I’m sorry. Thornstar is getting worse, too. I only got to leave because it was an emergency. I’ll have to go by tomorrow afternoon.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s perfectly fine,” Nettlecloud said. “It does me good to have you for any length of time. And I’m glad you brought Beetlefoot back with you.”</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot spoke the most evenly out of all of them. “I’m very sorry to hear about this, Nettlecloud.”</p><p> </p><p>Nettlecloud waved her tail dismissively, but she gave him a warm look. “It’s nice to have friends and family here. But it’s late. Let’s rest and chat in the morning.”</p><p> </p><p>Everyone agreed to this, though Mistface knew that only she got any sleep by the time the sun was up. Mistface and Beetlefoot caught prey for the four of them, but the silence that hung over the little group stretched for a long time after they had finished their meals.</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf stood up suddenly and said, “I’m going to talk to the leaders and see if I can come back down more often to make sure you’re okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’d be nice,” Mistface agreed. “We miss you even without the current situation.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then I better go now.” Greyleaf gently nosed Nettlecloud’s head. “Don’t you go dying until I come back, Mama.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.” Nettlecloud let out an almost deafening purr. “I’m not goin’ anywhere until I’m good and ready. We still have plenty of time together.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good,” said Greyleaf, but something in his voice made Mistface peer at him curiously. His eyes dimmed for just a moment before they returned to that false brightness.</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot stood up as well. “I’ll be back with a message as soon as I can, ma’am.”</p><p> </p><p>“We make pretty good time with Beetlefoot setting the pace,” Greyleaf joked weakly.</p><p> </p><p>“Off you go, then,” Nettlecloud said. “Don’t wheedle or bully those leaders. I’m sure they’re more than willin’ to let you come back whenever you like.”</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf just nodded, still forcing cheeriness in his expression, and started off. Beetlefoot murmured his goodbyes and followed.</p><p> </p><p>“See you, by the way,” Mistface said to his brother.</p><p> </p><p>Greyleaf paused, looking alarmed. “R-right. Right. Bye. I’ll see you soon.”</p><p> </p><p>The toms continued away at a trot before loping into a canter. Beetlefoot almost looked surprised, but he kept up easily, and soon they were dots on the horizon.</p><p> </p><p>Mistface watched them go, wondering why his brother wouldn’t look at him as he left.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Twenty days passed with no sign of Beetlefoot.</p><p> </p><p>After a meal with Nettlecloud that he had hunted down, Mistface padded over to a spot facing the direction that Beetlefoot always arrived from. Sitting down, the blue-grey tom silently watched the horizon, as if doing so would make the messenger more likely to appear. Similar to the past couple days, though, there was no luck. Eventually, Mistface’s tail swished in frustration as he thought about how long it had been since he last saw Beetlefoot.</p><p> </p><p>Nettlecloud, seeing this, broke the silence. “I know waitin’ is hard, but there’s not much we can do, love.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface stood up once again, turning around and walking over to talk to his mother. “I know, Mama. It’s just been longer than it should be, the sittin’ around for a response. It was Eld when Beetlefoot last came around with Greyleaf, and it passed by last week with nothin’ and now it’s Eld again. Two weeks exactly.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hoped Eld would live up to its purpose of resolvin’ things?” Nettlecloud asked with a hint of an amused smile. She paused to gaze in the same direction as Mistface had been a moment ago. The amusement faded as she added,”I get bein’ worried about the silence. Hopefully things are alright.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface regarded her for a moment wordlessly. Things weren’t alright, because she was dying. That thought was at the tip of his tongue, even though he knew she wasn’t talking about herself. It has crossed his mind countless times ever since Shinerpelt’s diagnosis, and gotten louder, almost deafening, when Greyleaf confirmed it to be true. </p><p> </p><p>And yet his mother was acting like it was fine throughout all of this. Was she just putting on a brave face and taking it to her grave, or did she really think it was okay? He wasn’t sure. Perhaps being unable to tell was what hurt the most.</p><p> </p><p>“…Hopefully,” Mistface finally stated. “It’s hard to guess why we’ve been hearin’ nothing.”</p><p> </p><p>Nettlecloud nodded. Then, the two fell into silence once more. The rest of Eld went by uneventfully.</p><p> </p><p>Five more days passed with nothing.</p><p> </p><p>Then, on Rume, Mistface saw a dot on the horizon as he and Nettlecloud looked out into the distance once again.</p><p> </p><p>Soon, Beetlefoot arrived, pausing to catch his breath. It seemed that he had went into a full-on sprint for the last leg of his journey.</p><p> </p><p>Mistface kept a neutral expression as he waited for Beetlefoot to say something. As much as the long silence had bothered him, he knew the tom well enough by now to doubt he was at fault for the delay. Nettlecloud waited with mild concern on her face, seeming worried about his breathless state.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as he caught his breath, Beetlefoot spoke up, looking uneasy as he did so. “I do not have a message from Greyleaf. Something’s been up with him lately.”</p><p> </p><p>Up with him? At first, Mistface was taken by surprise with this statement. However, he then recalled how something had seemed off about Greyleaf’s behavior during his most recent visit. </p><p> </p><p>Of course, he was still perplexed by the fact that his brother hadn’t even sent Nettlecloud a message. Slowly, he replied,”What’s been goin’ on?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know everything about the situation,” Beetlefoot began,”But I had been waiting on standby to be sent back here with a message for some time. I found out that Greyleaf started sending messages with Grousewind, another member of the Fleet instead.” He paused and gave Mistface a questioning look. “Have you received any messages?”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface can feel increasing bafflement threatening to reach his expression. “No, it’s been silence ever since he came by with you.”</p><p> </p><p>The messenger flicked his ear in acknowledgement, and then continued. “I asked Phoebestar if there had been a reassignment, but she was also confused by this. And a few days after that, she sent me here to give you a message.”</p><p> </p><p>Nettlecloud gently prompted, “What’s the message?” There was mild confusion and worry evident on her face.</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot relayed, ”I would like to personally invite Mistface and Nettlecloud to the Gathering on Sel.” </p><p> </p><p>“Nothin’ else?” Mistface tilted his head curiously. </p><p> </p><p>The smaller tom shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you for relayin’ her message to us, dear,” Nettlecloud said to Beetlefoot with a nod. </p><p> </p><p>Mistface adjusted his position in the grass as he thought on the message. “So there’s no reason given by Phoebestar, then. I’m guessin’ it’s probably related to what’s going on with Greyleaf, but I don’t know how.”</p><p> </p><p>“Probably.” Beetlefoot echoed that word with some uncertainty. “I was also invited by her to go.”</p><p> </p><p>“Given the Gathering can be attended by anyone, it’s more of a request we show up than an invitation,” Mistface stated.</p><p> </p><p>Nettlecloud looked over to Beetlefoot. “I don’t believe I’ll be able to attend with with my illness.” She then turned her attention back to Mistface and added,”You should probably be headin’ there on Sel, though.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface hummed in agreement. “I suppose I should. Especially if this really has got to do with Greyleaf.” He paused, taking more time to consider something, before adding,”I still have no idea how he could be involved in somethin’ so serious.”</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot shuffled his paws before replying,”He does seem too anxious to want to cause any trouble.”</p><p> </p><p>”He might not be gettin’ in any trouble,” Nettlecloud offered. “It may be another sort of involvement.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe. Though the possibility can’t be denied, with how he’s been sending another messenger for something, and leaving the both of you without a message,” Beetlefoot stated matter-of-factly.</p><p> </p><p>Mistface opened his jaws to say something, but Nettlecloud was faster. “There’s no use in speculating for now. You boys will learn what’s goin’ on during the Gathering.”</p><p> </p><p>“Guess we will,” Mistface simply responded. “Been a while since I went to one, when I think about it.”</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot nodded. “I don’t go too frequently, either.”</p><p> </p><p>“Seems it takes a leader’s intervention to get you two to be social,” Nettlecloud gently teased with a smile. “If you can, the both of you try and participate besides seein’ what Phoebestar called you there for, alright? I think it’d do you both some good.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface hesitated slightly, but dipped his head. “Alright. Course, the invitation is gonna be our main focus, but it wouldn’t hurt to chat with some other cats.” Maybe he could talk to Laurelclaw if he was there, at least. He was pleasant enough to be around last time.</p><p> </p><p>“Glad to hear it,” Nettlecloud purred.</p><p> </p><p>There was a pause in the conversation before Beetlefoot spoke up again. “I should get going. It would be a good idea to check if I’m to do another route until this is sorted out.”</p><p> </p><p>“We won’t hold you up, then,” replied Nettlecloud. With a smile, she added,”Safe travels, dear.”</p><p> </p><p>With that, Beetlefoot headed off once again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Further information on the days of the week can be found under the readmores of the aspect posts, which are at https://calitraditionalism.tumblr.com/tagged/aspects.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sel arrived much faster than Mistface would have liked, and with it came Beetlefoot, who looked just as eager for the day as he felt. The two of them left Nettlecloud with a ground squirrel from Beetlefoot and a promise to be back as soon as possible from Mistface. They went off at a trot, quiet for a while, separately thinking things over.</p><p> </p><p>“I haven’t been to a proper Gathering since I was an apprentice,” Mistface finally said. “Bound to be a huge crowd.”</p><p> </p><p>“There generally is,” Beetlefoot said. “Even when it’s just Fleet members.”</p><p> </p><p>“I thought those were councils.”</p><p> </p><p>“The councils are for seers and healers, and the higher ranks.” Beetlefoot sniffed primly. “We’re a little too low on the prey pile to count.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface hummed and trotted on in silence.</p><p> </p><p>The trek was longer than the one to the coterie – they had left early before sunrise, and even at a faster pace, it took them until late in the morning to catch sight of the sea of cats in a clumsy ring of bushes and tall stones. Most of them were seated in a half-circle around the tallest of the stones, and as Mistface got closer he could see a petite ginger cat sitting on it and speaking to the crowd below her.</p><p> </p><p>“Fernstar?” Beetlefoot murmured, as if asking himself to confirm.</p><p> </p><p>“Looks like it could be her, from what little I know,” Mistface replied, also lowering his voice as they approached. “Fernstar’s a ginger, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot nodded. Nothing more was said between them; they slowed to a walk when they were close enough to hear the leader’s voice.</p><p> </p><p>“As such,” she was saying, “I would recommend leaving the village to itself for now. There are reasons beyond that, of course, but until…”</p><p> </p><p>She had been turning her head back and forth to address everyone, but just as Mistface and Beetlefoot reached the back of the crowd, her eyes caught them and she trailed off. Before anyone could glance back at them, though, she raised her head again.</p><p> </p><p>“Until we have further news, please avoid the Clast area,” she concluded. “Lightningstar, if you could continue the reports?”</p><p> </p><p>From behind the stone, a golden cat leapt smoothly up and landed beside Fernstar, while she jumped down to the side and disappeared into the patch of bushes close to her.</p><p> </p><p>“A good day to you all,” Lightningstar began. “We come now to the other reasons for staying away from the mid-west part of the valley, that being…”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface preemptively schooled his face into neutrality instead of boredom. “Ain’t much to come all this way for. We don’t go near the Clast anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>“And there’s no Phoebestar.” Beetlefoot sat up a little on his haunches, trying to look over the crowd. “Why would she invite you and not show up?”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s your leader,” Mistface said. “Didn’t she tell you anything else?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, just-“</p><p> </p><p>“Hello!”</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot trailed off and looked to the side, frowning deeper than usual. Mistface followed his line of sight and noticed a nearly black tabby strutting towards them. It was a molly that smelled dusty despite her pelt having a silky sheen, and she stared blankly past them with incredibly wide pupils. Mistface guessed quickly that she couldn’t see anything to begin with.</p><p> </p><p>“You there, with the obnoxious accent,” she said, coming to a stop a few steps away from the pair of toms, still not actually looking at them. “I take it you’re Mistface, brother of Greyleaf?”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface blinked and said hesitantly, “That’s correct.”</p><p> </p><p>The molly smiled. Something about her smile was both unsettling and irritating. “Excellent. Fernstar wants a word.”</p><p> </p><p>Abruptly, she turned around and started off again, her thin tail waving in the air and motioning for the toms to follow her. Beetlefoot and Mistface exchanged confused looks, but walked along behind her.</p><p> </p><p>“Who are you?” Beetlefoot asked once they were a little past the meat of the crowd. “Why is-“</p><p> </p><p>“Ut!” The molly lifted her head back until her nose was almost pointing behind her. “Just a moment, boys.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface narrowed his eyes, but he obeyed and said nothing. </p><p> </p><p>The molly led them towards a bramble-patch and weaved around it within whisker-length, and the bush behind it, and the bush past that. Mistface could only look around in bewilderment as they went between and around and even through the foliage. Just as he was about to ask where they were going, the molly stopped and stepped to the side, exposing a small opening in the leafage.</p><p> </p><p>“Got ‘em,” she said, revealing Fernstar lying inside the opening. Beside her was a vaguely familiar face – the big white tom named Laurelclaw, who brightened up considerably when he saw Mistface.</p><p> </p><p>Fernstar’s ears twitched and she coolly regarded the confused toms in front of her. “Thank you, Darkpelt.” She slowly sat up and bowed her head a little. “Mistface and Beetlefoot.”</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t a question, so Mistface didn’t answer it. He instead glanced sidelong at Laurelclaw. “Fancy seein’ you here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hi again!” Laurelclaw said, tail thumping the ground excitedly. “I could say the same.”</p><p> </p><p>“Before we get to conversation…” Fernstar said, giving Laurelclaw a look that immediately clammed him up. “I’d like to explain why all of you were brought here. Come in.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface blinked slowly and didn’t move until Beetlefoot entered the makeshift den, Darkpelt behind him. He sauntered a few steps forward and sat down with his back to the entrance, his tail curled around his feet and nearly completely hiding his legs.</p><p> </p><p>“Everyone here is aware that Greyleaf is Mistface’s brother, and the official healer for the leaders, yes?” Fernstar waited for them all to nod before continuing. “What some of you may not know is that he abruptly left our dens under the pretense of going to be with his mother as much as he can.”</p><p> </p><p>“He didn’t show up, if that’s the case,” Mistface said.</p><p> </p><p>“We know,” said Fernstar. “We sent a spy to follow him.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface opened his mouth to ask who, but his eyes drifted to the side and he looked fully at Darkpelt, who was still smiling. She winked cheekily. Mistface took a moment to wonder how a blind cat knew the precise moment to wink before Fernstar interrupted his thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>“He went to Clast,” she said. “We aren’t sure why, but we have our suspicions.”</p><p> </p><p>Darkpelt tilted her head up again, gazing at nothing. “There’s a whole situation going on over at the village. It’s been real hush-hush for the rest of you, but the deputy there has been inviting cats to join her and potentially leave the Territory entirely.”</p><p> </p><p>Laurelclaw blinked. “When there’s predator sightings?”</p><p> </p><p>Darkpelt’s head ever-so-slightly bent his way, that unpleasant smile still on her face. “Well, to be fair, that’s only half real. The leaders wanted to deter everyone from approaching Clast until we have further information on what’s happening with that deputy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Redheart was chosen by me personally,” Fernstar continued. “I had assumed she had a solid head on her shoulders, and I still believe she does.”</p><p> </p><p>“Dunno why,” Mistface drawled, “if she’s thinkin’ of leavin’ the Territory of all places. Where would she go?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s what we want you to find out.” Fernstar met his eyes with an even, unbothered expression. “All four of you have been called here to investigate for us. She’d be smart enough to lie if I went down myself and asked questions. I don’t want to believe that she would, but you can’t be too careful.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface regarded the leader. She was smaller than him, and did not seem that much older, but he suddenly felt like an apprentice in trouble. He had to look at the ground for a moment. “I’m not much of an investigator, ma’am, if I may say. Why not have someone who knows what they’re doin’?”</p><p> </p><p>“We do.” Darkpelt looked entirely too self-satisfied. “That’s why<em> I’m</em> here. <em>You’re </em>here because your brother may be involved and we want you to spy on him.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s incredibly intelligent,” Fernstar said. “If it were anyone else following him around and keeping an eye on him, he would catch on that something was up. But if you and your mother heard he was living there, and decided to make that short trek up to the center of the valley to be with him-“</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t take my mother to the Clast,” Mistface interrupted. “You must know by now that she’s very sick.”</p><p> </p><p>“Lucky for you, the Vultures happen to be making a stop nearby,” Darkpelt said with a flippant flick of her tail. “They’ll be there for a while. I hear one of their own is having a litter. Perfect place for an old broad to wait out her time while her sons sneak around each other.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface bristled for perhaps the first time in his life, glaring at the blind molly. From the smirk she wore, she must have known what his reaction was.</p><p> </p><p>“If-“ Laurelclaw ducked his head down and forward, just barely blocking the two other warriors from seeing each other. “I hate to interrupt, I’m very sorry, but – what about the rest of us? Why are we here?”</p><p> </p><p>Fernstar looked completely apathetic about the tension emanating from Mistface. “Mistface and Darkpelt are our primary spies in this situation. You, Laurelclaw, will serve as protection for the rest of the party. A big cat like you would be expected to join the Clast, which will make things much easier for everyone else. Beetlefoot, you are our go-between – our reporter on any suspicious going-ons from Redheart or any of her followers. There are patrollers around the mid-west part of the valley looking for predators, but one specific party is on the lookout for you or any of the other three here. Information is to be passed on to them.”</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot, surprisingly, immediately gave a jerky nod. “I can do that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good.” Fernstar looked around at the rest of them slowly before turning fully to Mistface. “We want you to be the face of the operation. We’ve heard you’re charming when you care to be. Would you be willing to use that charm for the Clan?” Her eyes very slightly narrowed. “For your brother’s safety?”</p><p> </p><p>That was a cheap shot, and Mistface had quite a few sharp remarks he wanted to make. Instead, he inhaled slowly, forced himself to relax, and pretended to think deeply for a long moment. Finally, he tilted his head to one side. “I suppose I could. As long as my mother will be cared for while I’m busy.”</p><p> </p><p>“She will be,” Fernstar said, and he believed her. “You are free to visit her as often as you like. Our only request is that you help us where you can. Laurelclaw, Darkpelt, you also agree to this mission?”</p><p> </p><p>“Better this than running around for some random deputy with a false problem,” Darkpelt said.</p><p> </p><p>“I-“ Laurelclaw cleared his throat. “I won’t have to hurt anyone, will I?”</p><p> </p><p>“Most likely not,” Fernstar said. “We encourage you to avoid a fight where you can.”</p><p> </p><p>Laurelclaw sighed in relief. “Then yes, I agree.”</p><p> </p><p>“Excellent.” Fernstar stood up. “All of you go with Mistface to where he lives. Your mission starts tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Laurelclaw said quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“Awful soon,” Mistface said, and internally groused about bringing strangers to badger his mother.</p><p> </p><p>“For the sake of those cats Redheart is planning to lead out of here,” Fernstar said, “it’s not soon enough.”</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rest of Mistface’s time at the Gathering passed by fairly uneventfully. There was some more instruction from Fernstar, and then the small ginger molly had carefully slipped back into the crowd, walking back over to Lightningstar as they wrapped up their speech.</p><p> </p><p>Laurelclaw and Darkpelt had wanted to stay longer. The former’s desire to do so was unsurprising, given his friendly nature. Meanwhile, Darkpelt had practically flaunted Mistface with her gleeful refusal to specify a reason.</p><p> </p><p>Mistface and Beetlefoot chatted with some of the countless cats attending the Gathering for a little while longer. However, Beetlefoot quickly exhausted his desire to socialize and Mistface was happy to stop when the shorter tom decided to. After that, the pair mostly hung around together at an agreed meeting spot until the other two returned. </p><p> </p><p>Finally, Darkpelt returned, and Laurelclaw did as well soon after.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry to keep you waiting,” the large tom apologized sheepishly when he saw that everyone else had already gathered at the meeting spot near the bramble patch.</p><p> </p><p>Darkpelt stood up with an exaggerated stretch and yawn, tilting her head towards the general direction of his voice with a wide grin afterwards. “In the time we waited for you to arrive, Redheart already took her rowdy bunch off to not-even-Starclan-knows-where. The mission is a failure thanks to you, Laurelclaw. Think of those poor, innocent Clast kits and apprentices we could’ve saved if you’d just shown up sooner.”</p><p> </p><p>To Mistface’s surprise, Laurelclaw actually chuckled a little at that. He half-expected the tom to double down on his apologies.</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot, meanwhile, seemed entirely unamused by the joke. With a flick of his tail, he stated,“We should get going. Fernstar told us to head back to where Mistface lives.”</p><p> </p><p>The molly, still maintaining that grin of hers, asked teasingly,”My my, aren’t we in a hurry?”</p><p> </p><p>The messenger narrowed his eyes at her. “Yes, we are,” the tom stated curtly. Quickly and decisively, he turned towards the direction that he and Mistface came from to reach the Gathering. “This way,” Beetlefoot added as he briskly began to head off.</p><p> </p><p>This reaction only seemed to serve to amuse Darkpelt. As Beetlefoot trotted off, the rest of the group followed. Mistface wondered to himself whether the messenger had determined the correct direction to head in while waiting or if he was just that fast at picking it out.</p><p> </p><p>As the group escaped the large crowd of the Gathering, Mistface thought rather unenthusiastically about the fact that he had to introduce more cats to Nettlecloud when he got back. At least he’d met Laurelclaw before today and the tom was nice enough, but Mistface dreaded the idea of Darkpelt trying to get under Nettlecloud’s skin as soon as she could.</p><p> </p><p>Breaking the group’s silence, Mistface spoke up,”While we’re headin’ over there, I want to mention that I’d like y’all to be nice to my mother. Especially with her bein’ sick, I’d rather her not be overwhelmed by anyone.”</p><p> </p><p>Laurelclaw nodded agreeably. “I’ll do my best!” </p><p> </p><p>Darkpelt, meanwhile, turned her gaze in Mistface’s direction and mentioned casually yet knowingly,”Oh, he didn’t mean you, Laurelclaw.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface said nothing. </p><p> </p><p>The molly continued, in a more serious tone,”Speaking of that, remember what Fernstar said before she left. It’s for the best if we don’t tell Nettlecloud about the mission.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right,” Mistface responded. That was the other part he wasn’t looking forward to. He hated keeping secrets from his family, and now he had to with both Nettlecloud and Greyleaf. At least he didn’t feel as bad hiding things from Greyleaf now when his brother keeping secrets of his own. But that wasn’t so much the case with Nettlecloud.</p><p> </p><p>After a brief pause in the discussion, Laurelclaw spoke up tentatively,”Is it just your mother that you live with, Mistface?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I’ve just been livin’ with her. Greyleaf too, before he became a healer for the leaders.” Mistface glanced over to the larger tom as he walked. “Given you’re from Plage, you’re probably not so used to smaller groups, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Laurelclaw confirmed with a nod. “I knew that Scattered cats tended to live with less cats than in the major groups, but it’s easy to forget just how few.” He paused for a moment, and then something seemed to occur to him. “Oh! What groups are you from, Darkpelt and Beetlefoot? I know you’re probably both more focused on your respective jobs now, but I’m kind of curious.”</p><p> </p><p>“Brae,” came Beetlefoot’s short and unenthusiastic response. Mistface could tell that Darkpelt would take note of the messenger’s apparent dislike of his own group, and it was only a matter of when she decided to bring it up.</p><p> </p><p>However, the lanky molly didn’t comment on it yet. “I’m from Versant, myself.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface recalled that those two groups in particular had the most tension between them. Both of them claimed ties to Slopeclan from when there were multiple clans, though Brae members denounced Versant’s lack of adherence to tradition. He half-wondered if Darkpelt had only said she was from Versant to try and get on Beetlefoot’s nerves, or at least test if it would.</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot, however, did not seem to care about her being from Versant, based on his lack of a reaction.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually, the group reached Mistface’s home. At the sight of her son and the rest of the group, Nettlecloud seemed to perk up. Slowly, the older molly stood up and walked over, dipping her head in greeting.</p><p> </p><p>Mistface greeted his mother,”Mama, I’m back from the Gathering. I brought a couple of friends with me.”</p><p> </p><p>With a smile, Nettlecloud responded,”I’m glad that you’ve been makin’ a few friends, love! It’s been so long since the last time you’ve done that before Beetlefoot.”</p><p> </p><p>Beetlefoot didn’t appear entirely sure about the statement that he and Mistface were friends, but didn’t protest it, either.</p><p> </p><p>If he didn’t have more self control, Mistface’s ears would probably have been pressed back against his skull in embarrassment right about then. </p><p> </p><p>With a wide grin Darkpelt mentioned all too cheerfully,”Glad we could help get your son out of his shell.”</p><p> </p><p>With more genuine friendliness, Laurelclaw spoke up,”It’s nice to meet you, Nettlecloud. I’m Laurelclaw, and this is Darkpelt.” He indicated the molly with his tail as he introduced her. “I met Mistface during the coterie gathering, and it was nice to see him again!” </p><p> </p><p>“I’m happy you two could stop by,” Nettlecloud replied. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, that brings me to something important, Mama,” Mistface began to explain. “You see, the reason they’re here is more than just a visit.” He soon began to wish he’d thought more on what exactly to tell her, but did his best to improvise. “They’d both been meanin’ to head over to Clast, and I learned at the Gathering that Greyleaf is over in that area.”</p><p> </p><p>Nettlecloud thoughtfully tilted her head a little. With some concern in her tone, she asked,“Did you learn why he’s gone over there, dear? It’s not the safest of places.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface shifted into a sitting position, mostly to give himself a moment to figure out a reply without letting the pause seem unnatural. “I’m not sure,” he answered. “Phoebestar only knew what happened, not why. The reason she called us over to the Gathering was to let us know what was goin’ on and request we check in on him. Make sure there’s nothing he’s too nervous to tell the leaders or anything.”</p><p> </p><p>He felt relieved when Nettlecloud seemed to believe him. “I’d certainly want to make sure he’s alright. Though, I’m afraid I may not be up to it, physically speaking.”</p><p> </p><p>Mistface responded,”I was worried about that as well, Mama.” That much was true, at least. “Luckily, it sounds like the Vultures are stayin’ in an area between here and Clast. If you think you’re up for travellin’ there, I could go all the way and check in on Greyleaf, and if he’s stayin’ around Clast, you’d be close by.”</p><p> </p><p>Laurelclaw offered,”And I could help you out with getting there, if you’d like.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s very kind of you,” Nettlecloud said to Laurelclaw with a grateful smile. Turning back to Mistface, she added,”I think I’d be up for that.”</p><p> </p><p>“We can set out tomorrow,” Darkpelt stated. “Starting to go somewhere else after a full day at the Gathering would be unwise.”</p><p> </p><p>Nettlecloud nodded, and then a thought seemed to occur to her. “Mistface, would you be up to hunt a bite to eat for our guests to have?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, Mama.” The blue-gray tom was grateful for a reason to get a moment to himself. With a dip of his head, he headed off to hunt.</p><p> </p><p>As Mistface trotted through the grass, paying careful attention to the scents and sounds around him, he wondered what exactly Greyleaf was hiding from him. Well, not just him. From everyone, it seemed. Beetlefoot, Nettlecloud, and even the leaders weren’t sure about what was going on, either. It was troubling. Greyleaf was normally much more open with his family, at least. </p><p> </p><p>Because of that, Mistface hoped that this mission that Fernstar gave was a success. If he learned what was going on in Clast, it seemed certain that he’d know what his brother was keeping secret from those around him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This concludes the first arc! Thank you for reading. The next arc will be coming soon.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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